Cornered
by MildlyInsane
Summary: When Glenn and Daryl take a trip into the city for supplies they encounter an unexpected hoard of walkers. In an attempt to avoid being devoured, they end up locking themselves in a storage closet where they must wait for the undead to forget about them.
1. Chapter 1

_**Notes: I don't know WHEN this is supposed to take place... Some time when they are still living in their little camp... I think maybe it might exist in a world a bit different from the show, because I feel like it should have happened after they left Merle on the roof, but before the zombies ambushed their camp and killed Amy and the other less important characters. It doesn't really fit anywhere in the show... You can pretend it happened in the comic book universe, but Daryl doesn't exist there... You can decide for yourself. **_

_**Also, this is totally not meant to be slashy, but if you want, you can read it that way. I have a tendency to write and say things that I mean to sound completely innocent, and then people do that little *nudge, nudge, wink wink* thing where they totally took it to mean something sexual... Really... It's completely meant to be just friendship moments, not anything more... But read it however you like. :) I've said it before, and I'll say it again - I'm fine with people writing stories with sex, and I'll even read some of them... but I won't write them. It's not that I think I'm above it or too good or anything - I just don't like sex.**_

_**Anyway, enough with that. Here's the story:  
><strong>_

**_xxxxxx_**

A soft gasp could be heard from a few yards in front of him as his companion spun around and greeted him with wide, paranoid eyes.

Daryl simply raised his eyebrows and gestured at the bottles of shampoo he had just kicked over. Damn, this guy was jumpy... Of course, he didn't really blame him; living with the constant threat of having your face eaten off with little or no warning could really take a tole on even the most relaxed person.

Glenn nodded, realizing the sound he had been so startled by was just plastic scuttling across the tiled floor of the shop which they found themselves in. He turned back around and continued walking cautiously through the aisles.

The two of them had decided to go on a supply run. Glenn had wanted to go by himself of course. He claimed he worked better alone, and preferred to have to cover only his own ass and no one else's. Daryl respected that. He didn't like having to babysit for any of these idiots either. However, he also knew Glenn was going to fill up his back pack with canned food, weapons if he found any, and other so called necessary provisions. Daryl, on the other hand, was in the market for some rum, and knew the others wouldn't want Glenn wasting space in his backpack for it. The only way Daryl was going to get the stuff he wanted, was if he got it himself.

"Shhh!" he heard the kid in front of him gasp again. He didn't turn around, but rather stayed completely still, raising up his hand with one finger pointing upwards, as if signaling to the older man that he needed to keep his mouth shut.

Daryl narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on his crossbow. He didn't know how Glenn survived all of his trips into the city without ever bringing a weapon. Even if he was quick and quiet, having a backup plan wouldn't hurt anything. It was actually rather surprising that he would put so much faith in his ability to avoid the walkers entirely instead of planning for the possibility of taking a few of them out, especially considering that he actually seemed kind of smart, for a foreigner at least.

After almost a full minute of them both standing in silence with no danger revealing itself, Daryl sighed, "are you finished?"

Glenn turned around, sporting a confused look on his face, "what? We haven't gotten everything on the supplies list. No, I'm not finished..." He actually looked a bit annoyed, which was kind of amusing.

"No, dick-brain. I meant, are you finished being a pussy? You stop every five seconds just because the wind blows... No wonder you always take so god-damned long to get back to camp," Daryl clarified.

The boy frowned and shook his head, "it's not like we're living in a normal world," he complained, "it doesn't hurt anything to play it safe. If I hear a sound, I'm going to assume the worst. We don't have to luxury of being fearless."

"I do," Daryl smirked.

Glenn just shook his head in annoyance. The kid hardly ever had the guts to argue with him. He knew that, and he often took advantage of it. It was easy to always be the one who was right when they argued, because Glenn gave up to easily.

"I'm going to the booze aisle," Daryl informed him, "don't leave this building."

Glenn looked hurt, like a kid who was just denied a Happy Meal, "we really don't have room for that stuff," he pressed.

"Correction. _You_ don't have room for that stuff," Daryl called back as he made his way toward the back of the store, "We talked about this already China-Man. You get the stuff for the camp. I get the stuff for me. It's the whole reason I came with you. Remember?"

"Daryl..." Glenn called back in a hushed tone, "don't talk so loud."

Daryl rolled his eyes as he scanned the shelves of alcohol. Not surprisingly, a lot of it had already been cleared out. It seemed a lot more people were feeling helpless once all their family and friends died, and then rose from the dead and tried to chew off their limbs.

He settled for a nice large bottle of rum, stuffing it into his tattered makeshift bag. It was more than enough to get him drunk if he chose to use it that way. Of course, he probably wouldn't use it to get completely smashed. That would be careless, since he didn't trust the group he was living with and wanted to always have his wits about him. A bit of a buzz wouldn't hurt though, and this bottle would provide many of those. Hell, he might even let some of the others have a swig if he was feeling generous. Probably not though, since they so adamantly declared the lack of room for it in the Asian's backpack. If they didn't think the rum was important, then maybe they didn't deserve to have any of it.

"Are you about done back there?" he heard Glenn's whispered voice call back, "we need to try to move quicker," He could hear in the kid's tone that he was getting nervous. Daryl imagined the kid's success in not being eaten stemmed mostly from him rushing through his trips so fast that none of the walkers even had a chance to notice him. And if they did, he was gone before they could catch him.

"Calm the fuck down, man," Daryl called back, keeping his focus on the disheveled array of bottles and cans lining the shelves. He could possibly fit another into his bag... It was just a matter of if he wanted to. It would be more of a nuisance to lug around while Glenn took ages to find tampons, toilet paper, soap, and aspirin... but it certainly would be nice to have a kind of large stash of booze to last him a while.

"Hurry up," Glenn's small voice could barely be heard. Daryl could tell he was becoming panicked. He sighed. He supposed it indeed wasn't wise to stay in one spot too long. Glenn knew what he was doing when he came and scavenged in the city. He knew the longer they stayed here, the more likely they were going to encounter walkers who actually noticed they were there. Daryl couldn't ignore that.

He grabbed up a second bottle, Jack Daniels this time and turned back toward the front of the store.

As soon as he looked up and saw Glenn, he silently winced. The store had a large series of windows across the front wall... or rather it _used to_. They were all broken by now. But the broken windows were the least of his worries. What worried him was the hoard of walkers passing by those massive holes in the side of the building, and the fact that some of said walkers were seeming to stagger toward them instead of moving onward.

"Glenn," Daryl hissed, finally keeping his voice low, even lower than the boy's had been a few moments ago, "get away from the window." Apparently the kid was surviving all this time mostly due to his quickness and not because of his attentiveness to his surroundings.

The younger man turned slowly toward the window. Daryl knew immediately when Glenn noticed the walkers, because as soon as he did, he staggered backward, knocking into a shelf and effectively spilling it's contents all over the floor. He also added a small gasp to all the noise.

"Fuck!" Daryl grunted, rushing forward toward the boy. The commotion of the things falling off the shelves caused even more walkers to turn their attention toward the shop. The lack of glass in the window frames meant the walkers would have no problem of getting to them...

Glenn seemed to be frozen in fear. Daryl couldn't believe he had made it to and from the city so many times. Did he always freeze up like this each time he saw a walker? How in the fuck did he ever manage to get back to camp when he reacted like this?

"Come on," Daryl demanded, grabbing Glenn's arm and pulling him along.

It took Glenn a few seconds before his legs were actually following Daryl in a jog instead of in a stumbling motion. Daryl swore he was actually dragging the kid for the first moments.

The entire front of the store was surrounded. Some of the walkers were even making their way in through the window holes. The same sickening crunch of glass that had greeted them when they had walked through those windows only a short ten or so minutes earlier now assaulted their ears. The sound was multiplied by twenty this time though, partially because numerous walkers were staggering in, instead of just the two of them, and partially because every single sound somehow just seemed louder all of a sudden.

Daryl found himself backing a few steps up as he looked from the store's entrance and over the wall of windows. Their exits were completely blocked, and he didn't have enough arrows to shoot down all of them. He grabbed the former pizza-boy's shirt and dragged him with him to the back of the store. There _had_ to be some sort of employee exit, or a back door for deliveries or for taking out the trash or something...

As they made their way to the back, Glenn started using his brain again. He rushed ahead toward a door in the back. Daryl wanted to feel relieved at the sight of the door, but he didn't want to get his hopes up either. All sorts of things could go wrong about this. The door could be locked, or there could be even more walkers on the other side... or it could lead to some sort of cupboards or something equally useless.

He rushed up beside the boy, who was frantically pulling at the door, "It's locked!" he screamed, "we're stuck in here!" He turned around, pressing his back against the door and staring at the mass of undead corpses closing in around them, "shoot them!" he urged.

Daryl shook his head, "not enough arrows," he explained, "if we get out of this, I want my arrows. I'm not shooting them all off and leaving them in these fuckers' skulls. Shooting three of four of 'em won't do a damn bit of good. Come on," he pushed passed Glenn and searched the rest of the back of the store. This couldn't be the end for them. No way. Not after everything they had made it through. He was a Dixon, god-damn it. He was unstoppable.

"Daryl!" he heard Glenn's frantic voice. Apparently the kid was ballsy enough to have gone the opposite direction as Daryl had. He wasn't sure if that was his way of trying to help – to search a wider area in less time, or if it was his way of trying to get out of this on his own – leave Daryl behind so he could 'cover only his own ass.'

Either way, he seemed to have a plan of action, because he was frantically gesturing for Daryl to join him in whatever discovery he had made.

He didn't have the the time to ask questions, so he ran over to the boy's side, hoping there was an exit there and not something stupid like some knives the kid thought they'd be able to use.

When he got over to Glenn, he was only half-disappointed. The kid had found a door, and he had opened it. It wasn't something stupid like knives... But it wasn't exactly an exit either. The door led into a small store room, literally the size of a kitchen pantry or small walk-in closet.

Daryl looked at the closet, and then back at the walkers. He was doomed. While locking himself in a closet seemed like signing away his own life, so did staying out here and getting swarmed by walkers. Maybe they could wait in the closet for the walkers to forget about them... Or at least they could get away from them long enough that Daryl could shoot Glenn in the head with his crossbow, and then off himself... That way they'd die quickly instead of from having their bodies eaten while they screamed in agony...

So he dashed into the closet, turning back in time to see the corpses just inches away from Glenn as he rushed in and slammed the door closed behind him.

Daryl could smell the scent of their sweat and could hear that both he and the kid were breathing heavily. He could also hear hands thumping up against the door. It seemed each time a thump from fingers was heard, so was a small barely audible whimper.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the closet rather quickly, as a tiny row of windows was high up on the wall behind him. So tiny there was no way they could squeeze through them, but big enough that some light was let in so that they weren't completely in the dark.

He looked around the small room. Some coats were hanging on one wall, and on a shelf on the opposite wall were a few lunch boxes. He wrinkled his nose, not even wanting to know what nasty, rotten things those boxes contained. The room was much too small for comfort. Daryl could have, if he wanted to, put one hand on the left wall and one on the right, at the same time. This closet seemed to be used only for storage for employee belongings, so it didn't need to be large. Probably no one ever thought it would be a waiting room for zombie lunches.

Daryl drew his attention toward the door, which Glenn was leaning heavily against, still breathing hard, and still gasping each time a hand slammed up against the other side. His eyes were closed and he looked tired and terrified.

"The door got a lock?" Daryl asked, wondering why Glenn seemed to be attempting to hold it closed if it did. A closet probably wouldn't have a lock that locked from the inside, but they could at least check.

Glenn didn't seem to hear him. He seemed to be off in a world all his own.

"Hey," Daryl spoke up again, raising his voice. Glenn still didn't respond, so Daryl just took the one step there was to reach the door. He reached passed Glenn's shaking body and felt the doorknob himself. His fingertips were indeed greeted by just a smooth round knob. No lock.

At that point, Glenn finally remembered himself. He grew stiff and pushed Daryl away from himself, "sorry!" the boy apologized immediately, his eyes impossibly wide.

Daryl could feel that his face probably showed signs of him being pissed. He wasn't really that pissed at Glenn, for pushing him. He'd have pushed someone too, if they had invaded his personal space. Daryl was pissed at the situation, not at Glenn. The kid didn't know that though, and obviously took Daryl's scowl to mean pushing him had been a possibly fatal move.

"Did the door at least catch?" Daryl asked, not bothering to try to explain his angry facial expression to the younger man.

"Huh?" Glenn asked, still pressing himself against the door and resembling a desperate, caged animal.

"The door," Daryl all but screamed, "did it catch? Do you have to fucking hold it closed? Or is it latched?"

"Oh..." Glenn hesitated, "I'm scared to check..."

"I will then," Daryl grabbed his sleeve and pulled him away from the door. He breathed in and pulled the door softly, hoping it wouldn't open. It stayed in place. That was good. At least the door would stay closed on its own. That didn't make him want to leave it unguarded though. He doubted the walkers would learn how to use a doorknob any time soon, but they might pull the knob off, or knock the door inward if enough of them swarmed up against it. He wasn't willing to risk that possibility, so he stayed standing against it like Glenn had, only without flinching at each thud he felt from the rotting hands that attempted to claw their way in.

Daryl narrowed his eyes as he looked at the frightened boy standing in front of him, staring at him as if he was waiting for some sort of guidance.

He couldn't help but know this was largely his own fault. He had kept them at this shop longer than they should have stayed, and he had been yelling from the back of the store up to the front, likely making much more noise than he should have. He didn't want to blame himself though. He wanted to blame Glenn.

"You gotta learn to stop being so god-damned jumpy," he grumbled.

"What?" Glenn frowned, "I just didn't want them getting in the door... I didn't know if they could open it. You're standing against it now anyway; you're doing the same thing I was."

"I'm not talking about that, idiot," Daryl hissed, "when you see walkers, you gotta fucking hold still. Stay calm. Bumbling around like a damn idiot, knocking shit off shelves... You attracted every single one in the whole god-damn city."

Glenn just frowned, "they were already there..."

"They were _passing by_," Daryl hissed, "they didn't all swarm in here until you made as much noise as possible." He realized some of them had been looking in the store even before that, but accepting blame wasn't something he was good at, so he continued blaming the kid, "you know, for a Jap, you ain't very smart."

Glenn furrowed his brow, "I told you already, I'm Korean."

"That why you aren't smart then?" Daryl teased, "I guess it makes more sense now."

Glenn just shook his head, crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from the older man, "you know, if I had come alone, I'd have been out of here long before the swarm of walkers came by," he muttered under his breath. Daryl wasn't sure if he was meant to hear it or not, but the boy continued, "but if you think alcohol is worth more than your life, maybe you deserve this."

Daryl grabbed the kid's shoulder and turned him back around so they faced each other, "If you'd have just gotten my fucking rum for me, I wouldn't have had to come and _slow you down_," Daryl closed in on the boy. He wanted to make him nervous – to remind him who was in charge here. The kid could be mad at him, but he wasn't going to let him get away with being disrespectful, "you get all kinds of stupid worthless shit for everyone else. Getting one damn bottle of rum wouldn't kill you."

"Well, it might this time," Glenn stared up at him. His eyes revealed that he was indeed rather angry. In fact, Daryl didn't think he'd ever seen the kid so angry before. Of course, they had never been in such a predicament before. Not together anyway – Daryl didn't really know what zombie-related horror stories the boy had encountered.

Daryl found himself a bit taken aback that the younger man wasn't backing down yet. Ordinarily Daryl would call him some racial slur or yell at him, or even just mumble something rude, and the kid would give up just like that. But not this time. He was not giving in this time, and Daryl didn't really know if it bothered him or not. He actually felt kind of proud of the kid for finally sticking up for himself and having the balls to argue with him instead of just cowering away and giving him the win he didn't deserve.

Maybe he should just let Glenn win this one... Or maybe not, "Like I said before," he started, narrowing his eyes, "it's not the booze that's getting us killed; it's your stumbling ass falling into a shelf and knocking every fucking thing off it onto the floor. The walkers were there because I made the trip take too long, and they noticed us because you freaked out."

"So you admit it's both our faults," Glenn stared at him.

Daryl raised his eyebrows, "Sure," he smirked, "more yours than mine though."

"But still partially yours, and you know that," Glenn glared.

Daryl just laughed, "you got me there, Korea-Man."

He glanced over at Glenn, who was also smirking very slightly. The younger man sighed and sunk down to the floor, "this is exhausting," he commented, "do you think they'll thin out even if there's no other noise in the city to distract them?"

"Sure," Daryl guessed, "eventually."

Glenn pouted, leaning his head back hard enough to produce a thud, "how long do you think we'll be here? If we're stuck here too long, we won't be able to get back until morning... I'm not running through the city at night."

"I ain't either," Daryl agreed, "sleeping here won't be the end of the world."

"No?" Glenn looked up. Daryl couldn't even see most of his face, as the boy was sitting down while Daryl was still standing, the the kid's stupid baseball cap still managed to rest on his head after all this.

"As long as you don't snore," Daryl added.

_**xxxxxx**_

_**Review?  
><strong>_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Heya. Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed. I haven't written much fanfiction in a while, and hadn't EVER written one for this fandom, so I'm glad I haven't lost my touch and people are still into the things I write. ^_^ Each and every one of your reviews is special to me and they really reassure me that I'm on the right track. So keep up your reviews! You need me so I'll write the story, and I need you so you'll review it. It's a mutual symbiosis. :D**_

_**Also, I re-read my previous chapter and found several typos, but I don't know how to edit them without deleting the whole chapter, and I don't want to do that... So sorry that there are a couple very dumb looking errors in there. There probably will be some in this chapter too, because I SUCK at proof-reading my own work...**_

_**Here's the next chapter... I REALLY hope you LOVE it. ^_^  
><strong>_

_**xxxxxx**_

It seemed like they had been there for hours already. Nevertheless, the thudding of rotten hands on the door, just inches from his back didn't seem to have lessened at all. Daryl didn't have much experience with the walkers and trying to wait them out... He usually just killed them or ran. He never had to actually try to wait for a massive group of them to get distracted... Would they even get distracted? Or did they smell the living through the door? Maybe they weren't ever going to get tired of waiting for the two pieces of fresh meat. It wasn't as if there were a whole lot of other people in the city making noise...Maybe the walkers were perfectly willing to wait this out... It's not like they had anything better to do.

He didn't want to think about it... but if the heard didn't thin out by morning, or at least by mid-day, the two of them might have to just run for it and hope for the best. They couldn't wait in here forever; they'd starve to death. And the longer they stayed in there, the weaker they'd become, since they didn't have any food, and probably weren't likely to get much sleep. Even if they could wait a couple days, would they have the strength to make it back to their truck afterward?

"What are you thinking about?" Glenn asked.

Daryl glared at him. He hadn't realized the boy was still awake. Of course, it didn't surprise him that he was. Sleeping didn't come easy when the sound of monsters clawing their way in could so easily be heard. It wasn't a shock to Daryl that he wasn't the only one unable to get to sleep in this hell hole.

Glenn shrugged, "whatever man," he frowned, "I was just trying to make conversation."

Daryl hadn't meant to ignore him. He just didn't know if Glenn would want to know what he was thinking about. Could the kid handle the possibility that they might die in the next twenty-four hours?

Sighing, Glenn stretched his legs out. At this point, he and Daryl were both in sitting positions, and with the closet being so small, their legs lay parallel to each other, almost touching. Daryl was sitting against the door, while Glenn sat leaning against the opposite wall. Even so, there was barely enough room for both of them.

"What have you got in that bag?" Daryl asked, reaching over and grabbing Glenn's backpack which he had taken off his back and placed beside him.

Glenn didn't have to answer, because Daryl was already digging through it.

Inside was some canned food, toothpaste, a few bars of soap, a bottle of shampoo, a bunch of toothbrushes – the kid probably actually counted them out to make sure everyone would get one... Daryl felt the corners of his mouth itching to raise into a smirk. He couldn't believe this kid... He was too nice for his own good.

"Is it really that important that people get to brush their teeth?" Daryl asked, "it's not like there's going to be a lot of making out going on. Maybe between Rick and Lori... and Shane might make his way in there... But it's nothing _you_ gotta worry about..."

Glenn frowned, "Maybe you only brush your teeth when you're going to a wedding or a job interview, but I brush mine every day. It's about more than _making out_. We have enough issues in this world without having to worry about cavities."

Daryl just laughed. Cavities were _never_ something he was worried about. Not before this massive uprising of the undead, and not now. He'd brush his teeth when he remembered to, and even then only if he felt like it. A couple cavities weren't a big deal to him at all.

"Well, if we get desperate enough we can try to smash these cans open," Daryl changed the subject, "Otherwise we're going to just have to wait and eat when we get back to camp. Unless you wanna eat toothpaste and soap," he offered.

Glenn stood up, which made Daryl wonder what he was up to. He didn't ask though. Instead he just observed. The kid started climbing up one of the shelves so that he could lean over and see out the window, "there aren't any out there," he commented.

"You think we can fit through there?" Daryl asked, a heavy tone of sarcasm in his voice. Why the fuck was he even bothering to look out the window at all when he knew there was no way of getting out there?

Glenn ignored him and kept looking, "there's just an empty alley back there. If we could just get back there somehow..."

Daryl watched him as he continued speaking worthless words. There was no way out there. Not from here. He narrowed his eyes when he saw a dark spot on the kid's arm. Was that blood? Could the kid have been bitten?

It was possible... The walkers were very close when the boy had jumped into the closet at the last minute. Maybe that's why he had seemed so scared once he had slammed the door. Maybe he'd been bitten and was freaking out about it. Daryl would like to think he would have said something, but then he could also see why someone in that position would be in denial. If Glenn had been bitten, Daryl would have to shoot him. The kid knew that.

He sincerely hoped the boy hadn't been bitten. Shooting the walkers didn't phase him at all. They were bloodthirsty monsters, almost always people he had never known. But he had been around Glenn long enough that he was starting to get to know him. He knew he could shoot the boy if he needed to. It wasn't like he was his brother or friend. But still, they were acquaintances, and Daryl didn't want to have to shoot his acquaintance if he didn't absolutely have to.

Daryl had to decide what he'd do about this. Would he ask the kid if the blood was from a bite? He would lie if he had been bitten, so asking would do no good. Instead, Daryl decided to just watch him. If he started acting sick, he'd do something about it. For now, he'd just wait.

Glenn climbed back down, snatching a couple coats off the hooks on the wall and tossing one to Daryl.

"What the fuck's this for?" Daryl growled, throwing the coat back at the younger man.

The boy shrugged, "I just thought it was kind of cold in here. Thought we could use them as blankets, or just wear them."

Daryl narrowed his eyes. He didn't think it was too cold. Maybe the boy had a fever. That was a sign that he had been bitten and was infected.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Glenn asked, still standing up and looking down, with confused eyes, at the older man.

Daryl took this opportunity to stand as well. If Glenn was going to turn into a walker, Daryl didn't want to be sitting on the floor when it happened. He wanted to be in the position to take him down if he had to. He gripped his crossbow as he stared the kid down.

"What's going on?" Glenn furrowed his brow as he attempted to back into the wall. His eyes were wide and fearful. Daryl tried to figure out what that meant. If Glenn had been bitten, he would be fearful that Daryl had figured him out, and he would know what was coming. But maybe he had been bitten only slightly and hadn't even noticed within all the adrenaline. Maybe the poor kid didn't even know he had been bitten at all.

"Stay where you are," Daryl instructed, raising his crossbow slightly. He didn't point it at the kid. If he had been bitten, he was nowhere near the turning point yet. He _did_ want the boy to be mindful that the crossbow was indeed there though, and that he needed to do as Daryl told him.

Glenn looked hurt, as though he was being let down by someone he truly trusted. Surely he didn't really trust Daryl... Daryl didn't trust him. He'd save the kid's ass if it was convenient, and he felt the kid might just do the same for him... But neither of them would probably do anything too far out of their way of convenience. And neither of them knew the other well enough to be certain he could trust the other not to abandon him in order to save himself.

The wide-eyed boy stood with his mouth slightly agape and raised his hands up as if in surrender. Even as he was already backed up completely against the wall, he seemed to be somehow trying to back up further as Daryl cautiously stepped toward him, "What are you doing, Daryl?" he asked, his voice shaking, "we have a lot of time... We can still wait this out. We can get out of Atlanta together... No sacrifice necessary..."

Daryl shook his head, "just stay still," he demanded, hearing an edge to his own voice. He had to admit he was probably being much more frightening to the younger man than he needed to be. But if the kid had been bitten and was aware of it, he could easily be more dangerous than he seemed. Even a little guy like him could do something rash when cornered. If he had been bitten and knew he had no way out, he might just be more aggressive than he normally would.

Daryl didn't know this boy _that_ well. He didn't know how he might react when faced with sure death... Hell, even people he did know, he didn't know well enough... He didn't even know what he himself would do if he was bitten. He thought he'd probably just kill himself before he turned... but how could he know for sure?

Glenn squeezed his eyes shut as he still tried to back through the wall. His pleading voice wouldn't let up, "I'm sorry for whatever I did... You can't just-"

He was cut off when Daryl positioned his crossbow against the boy's quickly raising and falling chest. As soon as the weapon touched his chest, his voice vanished and his body stiffened. With his eyes still closed, Glenn didn't realize the bow was pointed away from him and it was just the side of it that was against his chest. He let out a pathetic whimper. Daryl wasn't meaning to threaten him. He was just holding him in place.

He reached out and put his hand lightly on Glenn's forehead, feeling for an unusually elevated temperature.

Daryl stared down at the kid as he opened his dark, tear-filled eyes. He looked down at the crossbow, seeing it was indeed not truly threatening him. Then his eyes looked back up and met Daryl's. He looked thoroughly confused.

Keeping his hand on Glenn's forehead, Daryl looked into his eyes, seeing the tears that were threatening to fall. Daryl tried not to be sympathetic very often, because usually people's problems were created by their own stupidity... But somehow right now he felt kind of bad for scaring the boy so much. Of course, if he had been bitten, he needed to be scared, because this shit was serious. He narrowed his eyes and kept them trained on Glenn's. Glenn still looked confused. His forehead didn't really feel hot, but Daryl wasn't a doctor... His hand wasn't a thermometer. He couldn't be certain of this old-fashioned means of checking for a fever.

"I'm going to ask you this once, and you're going to tell me the truth," Daryl started, his hand still on Glenn's forehead, holding him firmly against the wall. He gave the boy a stern look, letting him know this was no joke.

"Okay..." Glenn stuttered, his eyes still entirely uncertain.

"Have you been bitten?" Daryl glared down at him, trying to read his eyes for signs of dishonesty.

Glenn looked surprised, "what? No... Why would you think I have? We've been together this whole time... When could have I been bitten?" even as he argued his point, his voice still gave away the fact that he was still nervous about the position Daryl had him in. He sounded out of breath and his words were shaky.

"Let me see your arm," Daryl demanded.

Glenn held up his trembling arm. Daryl swatted it down and grabbed his other one, turning it in his hand, a little more rough than he meant to. It actually turned Glenn's whole body half-way around. He squinted into the near-darkness. The boy's upper arm was indeed covered in blood, but it came from a perfectly straight wound. It didn't look like a bite at all. It wasn't rounded or jagged. There were no teeth marks. It just looked like a straight cut that might come from a knife or razor or from any other random accident.

"Where did you get this?" Daryl asked.

"What?" Glenn turned and tried to see what Daryl was looking at, "Oh... I didn't know I did... I guess I probably got it when I fell into the shelf. It was a metal shelf... I fell into it hard, but I just had better things to worry about at the time, so I ignored it and moved on... I hardly even felt it. I mean, I know it's been hurting a little, but I just figured it would just have a bruise. I didn't know it was bleeding." Glenn rambled, still out of breath. He seemed desperate to make Daryl believe him. When he was through with his explanation, he just stared uncertainly up at Daryl.

Daryl shoved Glenn back so that he was against the wall again. The older of the two breathed out a sigh of relief, "God damn it," he almost laughed, "I thought you got bitten."

Glenn stared at him for a moment, still seeming to be a bit shocked. Finally, he laughed, "I thought you were going to kill me, man... Toss me out to the walkers so you could get away and leave me here to be their snack..."

Daryl narrowed his eyes and frowned. He knew Glenn didn't know him well enough to know this, but he would NEVER throw someone else out to those monsters just to save his own ass. He didn't work that way. He might not go back and save anyone who fell behind if it would be a major risk to his own life to do so, but he wouldn't deliberately kill someone or let them die just to save himself. Not going back for someone who was probably already dead and making the conscious choice to kill someone were two very different things.

"Maybe I shouldn't have said that," Glenn frowned, "you're not going to do that, are you?" his eyes were wide again as he was once more doubting the loyalty of his companion.

"No," Daryl assured him, "I wouldn't do something so cowardly." He wondered if Glenn would... He figured the boy probably wouldn't. He was too nice to do something like that. In fact, his niceness might even be his downfall one day. Not only would he probably not leave someone behind, but he'd probably risk his own life to save someone else's. Daryl couldn't help but remember that when Glenn found this very closet, he had waited until Daryl was inside before he stepped inside himself, even with the walkers closing in around him, much to close for comfort.

Daryl finally took a step back, releasing Glenn who looked very relieved, "I really thought you were going to kill me," he breathed out. His tremendous amount of obvious relief and his out of breath words were awkward. He also wore a very fake-looking forced smile. He was obviously still nervous.

"You were being suspicious. Blood all over your arm, saying you were cold like you might be sick... What the fuck was I supposed to think?" Daryl spat.

"No, no" Glenn raised his hands in defense, "you had good reason to be suspicious... I'm not making fun of you or anything... I'm just really glad we sorted this all out... I'm glad you double checked before you shot me."

"You got any bandages in that bag by any chance? That scratch on your arm looked like it was still bleeding a little bit," Daryl suggested, "and the blood being out in the open air like this probably isn't doing much good in getting those corpses out there to leave."

He shrugged, "I didn't get any," the boy frowned, "do you really think the blood is keeping them here?" his eyes were wide. He looked almost as worried now as he had a few moments ago when he thought Daryl was going to kill him.

Daryl shook his head, "if it is attracting them, it probably only is just barely. They can smell us already just because we ain't dead. The blood is probably just an extra bonus for them. The might not even notice a difference."

"I think it's almost stopped bleeding anyway," Glenn added, looking over his shoulder and trying to see the scrape on his arm, "I didn't even notice it until you pointed it out, so it can't be too bad, right?"

"Adrenaline does some fucked up things to your mind, kid," Daryl pointed out, "it might not be the worst cut I've seen, but it's not just a scratch either. Looks like it probably would have hurt if you weren't already running for your life."

"What should I do then?" Glenn asked, looking seriously at Daryl.

Daryl smirked. This kid was clueless. He never thought people would be seeking medical advice from him, "wrap a piece of your shirt or one of those coats around it... or don't. It's probably about dried up. You could just leave it at this point. It's not like we're gonna to be leaving this damn closet any time soon. By the time morning comes, you'll have a scab and it won't be a problem anymore. So long as it ain't fresh blood the walkers probably won't take notice of it."

Glenn nodded. He stood silently now, purposely averting his eyes from Daryl's. After a moment of hesitation, he looked back over his shoulder at the cut on his arm and poked at it with his other hand, "It is still kind of bleeding," he mumbled, "and it's probably been a few hours... Maybe I should wrap it."

Daryl just watched him. The kid didn't need his input on this. It wasn't really a life or death situation.

A scarf hung on the rack of coats, and Glenn found it quickly. He pulled it down and began his attempt to bandage his arm with it. Doing that one-handed proved to be difficult for him. The scarf was draped over his arm and wrapped around it loosely. He held onto one end with his hand and clenched the other end between his teeth. He tied it sloppily so that it sunk down almost instantly as soon as he let go of it.

"Dammit," he heard the kid mutter.

Daryl smirked. All he had to do was ask for help. It seemed he was too proud to do so though. Daryl thought about being a pain in the ass and refusing to help him unless he specifically asked, but then he remembered how rough he had been just a moment ago when really the kid hadn't done anything wrong. He'd already scared the hell out of him. The least he could do to repay him for that would be to help him bandage his arm.

Glenn looked up at him as he silently walked over and wrapped the scarf around it a few times and then tied the ends somewhat tightly.

"Thanks," Glenn's mouth formed a tiny smile.

Daryl just grunted and made his way back over to the door. He didn't want to leave it unguarded. The last thing they needed was for one of those undead motherfuckers to somehow claw their way in. Then they'd _really_ be fucked.

Standing perfectly still, Daryl listened. He could still hear the hands clawing at the door, but it seemed only a few walkers were right there instead of all of them. He did still hear feet plodding around through the store though. The walkers were still there. They just weren't all up against the door. He looked up at the window. He could see it was getting dark.

Sliding down the wall into a sitting position, Daryl looked up at Glenn, "might as well try to make yourself comfortable, little man" he suggested, "we're not going anywhere tonight."

_**xxxxxx**_

_**Review? :)  
><strong>_


	3. Chapter 3

**_A big thank you to everyone who reviewed previous chapters. (I love sentence fragments - as writers we don't have to be grammatically correct - and I take advantage of that all the time. Starting sentences with conjunctions rocks my world. Unless I'm writing a formal paper...) ^_^_**

**_Sorry for the delay... I've just been feeling unsure of this story. I know some people pretend they think they aren't good writers just so everyone will tell them they are and they'll get that ego boost, but I really do think my story is lacking something a lot of others on this site have... I'm not even sure what it is, but a lot of them just seem a lot better than mine... so I was a little reluctant to keep posting it. Maybe I make my scenes too long without actually having anything happen in them... I mean, I've got three chapters now and they've all taken place in and around a closet... And maybe my vocabulary isn't as extensive as some of yours... I don't read as much as I write, so maybe that's why. Most writers also love reading, and I just don't love reading that much... Everyone always says in order to become a better writer you should read read read. Maybe I'm doomed to just never be a really great writer... I've already gotten this written though, so I'll just post it anyway. I hope you guys like it more than I do.  
><em>**

**_xxxxxx_**

The dim light of the moon and stars shined in through the line of small windows above the place where Glenn was lying. Daryl's eyes had adjusted to the near darkness so that he could still see, but not very well. He saw mostly outlines of objects within the small room, and very few details.

Curled into a small ball, Glenn lay with one coat balled up under his head, functioning as a makeshift pillow. Another coat lay draped over his body. His eyes were closed and his breath was very steady and calm. His peaceful slumber resembled that of a young child. Daryl stared at him. How could he sleep right now? The walkers weren't very loud anymore, but that didn't mean they were out of danger. It was well into the night by now, so hopefully most of them had wandered off to pursue some other poor soul. Even so, the possibility remained that one might still make its way into the closet to devour them. Maybe Glenn trusted the closet door to protect them, but Daryl certainly didn't.

He wanted to get out of here. The closet was small, and his stomach was grumbling dully; there was no food that wouldn't involve making tons of noise to painstakingly extract from cans. It was a dark, cramped place, and certain death was right outside. Daryl was completely over this ordeal. Staying in the closet was driving him nuts. However, even though he didn't want to stay here, he didn't really want to go back to camp either.

They were camped out in the woods, rather close to the city. There were countless walkers only miles away... It was only a matter of time before a group of them would be up in the hills killing every last one of the survivors, especially since the living had a habit of sitting out at night around a small fire, laughing and joking. That was noise, which attracted walkers. And on top of that, they couldn't see a damn thing at night, so when the walkers did finally make their way up there, no one would see them until it was too late. The group's current plan wasn't a very wise one. Daryl knew how to survive in the wild, which was what this world had turned into. The others were terrible at it.

By now, the entire camp probably assumed they were both dead. they had been gone the whole day, and well into the night. Merle was gone, so Daryl really had no reason to go back to the camp. No one there liked him. They were probably just _hoping_ he'd abandon them. They might miss Glenn though, if only because he collected resources for them. If the boy got killed, they'd probably mourn more about no longer having a patsy to send into the city than from actually missing the kid's company.

If Daryl and Glenn split from the group, they would just assume the two had been killed in an accident in the city. Hell, they almost actually had been. No one would be surprised. No one would have to feel abandoned, because they'd think the two men had just died. And Daryl wasn't really a group sort of person anyway. He didn't make friends with people. He didn't trust people. He didn't need them.

Glenn seemed to like being on his own too, to a certain extent. He claimed he was faster on his own anyway, and didn't want to have to be in charge of a bunch of people. Maybe he trusted people more and made friends with them... but only because he was nice. He didn't have to for survival. He had a method to surviving. He moved fast, and it worked for him. The kid could take care of himself. And Daryl knew he could take care of himself too. Neither of them needed the others. The others probably didn't need them either. Not with the two cops living with them. They were probably used to shooting people. Shooting the walkers was probably no problem for them at all.

He wondered if he could convince the kid that splitting up from the others was a good game plan. He and Glenn would probably make a good team. The kid knew when to shut up, but he was quick and knew how to find supplies; he was no coward, but was smart enough to know when fear was the correct reaction. And Daryl was handy with the crossbow - a silent weapon their group didn't seem to appreciate.

Two was the perfect number. With two of them, they wouldn't have to babysit a bunch of other idiots - kids, women who didn't know what the fuck they were doing, that old man... They would just watch out for themselves and each other. They wouldn't be responsible for a bunch of weak people, but they would still have a tiny bit of room for error. Glenn could save Daryl's ass (if he ever needed him to - which he probably wouldn't) and Daryl could save Glenn's ass. They'd only have to scavenge food for two people too. It seemed like a much better plan than what they currently had set up - a bunch of clueless idiots camping in the zombie-infested woods.

Daryl wondered if Glenn had made friends with any of those people. He chatted with them, but he didn't seem to be anyone's number one man. Dale had those girls. Rick had his family. Shane had Rick's family, which was amusing to observe, but not worth staying with that group... There were the other two families... That crazy guy who barely talked... No one seemed really close to Glenn. Maybe the boy would be willing to give them up after all...

He watched with a critical eye as Glenn stirred a bit, pulling himself into an even tighter ball. He still didn't wake up though. Daryl narrowed his eyes. The boy _did_ seem kind of child-like. Maybe he wasn't really the type who could handle going off on his own permanently. Sure, Daryl would be there with him, but he wasn't one to provide strong bonds of friendship and compassion. Glenn needed praise from these people - he needed them to acknowledge the skill he had that they did not. He was a valuable asset to their group, and he knew it. He could have split from them any number of times, but he didn't. Maybe he didn't literally _need_ them, but it seemed he enjoyed being useful, and perhaps he felt like he needed them, just for the social aspect.

Getting the boy to abandon the group probably wouldn't be possible.

Daryl shook his head. He'd probably be stuck with that group of idiots until their stupid choices led him to his death. But even with all of his confidence, Daryl felt he didn't really want to go off completely on his own. What he really wanted was Merle. His brother was kind of a dick sometimes, but they were still brothers. They knew each other, and they looked out for each other. He and Merle had even briefly discussed the possibility of leaving the group once before... they probably should have while they still had the chance.

He looked back over at Glenn. He didn't really consider the two of them to be friends... But he also didn't want to leave the boy behind. Daryl figured if he had a younger brother of his own, he might be a little bit like Glenn. Not really, because Dixon boys were rough and rude, and Glenn was neither... But maybe a third brother would have been protected more by the older two enough that he would have ended up kind of friendly and trusting instead of defensive and quick to anger...

Daryl knew what it was like to have parents who didn't really give a shit about him. If he had been given a younger brother, he'd have taken care of him and made sure he didn't end up like his older siblings. Merle had done his best to take care of Daryl, but he could only do so much... Even so, Daryl felt he turned out a bit more compassionate, and a bit less racist than his brother had. Merle was the first born, molded completely by their neglectful parents, and thus was doomed. Daryl, second born, was only half doomed, since he had Merle to half-ass protect him. Perhaps a third born brother could have been only twenty-five percent as fucked up as Merle, and only half as fucked up as Daryl...

The world had been cruel to them. That's how they ended up being the way they were. Daryl didn't like making excuses or feeling sorry for himself, but he knew he was mean. He couldn't help it. People don't just change over night. The events and people in your life shape you, and to just turn that around the minute you discover you've turned into a dick-head isn't easy. Glenn was very lucky to have lived a life not so full or heartbreak and misery. It really was possible that a third Dixon brother could have ended up sort of like Glenn, just because Daryl wouldn't have let him grow up as bitter and hateful as himself.

If Merle came back into the picture and they decided to split from the group, he might consider inviting Glenn to come along with them. The kid probably wouldn't accept the offer though. Merle scared the hell out of everyone in the camp, and he was sure Glenn was no exception.

He glanced over at Glenn again. The young man was still sound asleep, still curled into a little ball like a child. He decided for the time being, they'd stick with the group up on the hill in the woods. There was no way he'd be able to convince Glenn to leave them unless he actually forced him to, which he didn't want to do. The boy would feel guilty for abandoning them. Daryl didn't doubt that at all.

But these people were going to start folding under the pressure of this situation soon, and they might not all be so friendly once more people started dying - and that was bound to happen. Camping out in the open with the walking dead roaming the planet? It was an accident waiting to happen. Their big happy family wouldn't last forever, and whenever it started breaking up too badly - whenever people started to not trust each other, he would propose to Glenn that the two of them should jump ship. He knew the younger man wouldn't go for it yet, but he wasn't so sure if he'd stick to that choice when things got more complicated.

Sighing loudly, Daryl shifted his weight a bit. The floor of the closet wasn't exactly comfortable. Especially since they had been sitting in there for hours. Sure, he had occasionally gotten up to stretch his legs, but there was barely even any room for that either. He stood up again reaching his arms up to stretch them and standing on his tip-toes to stretch his legs a bit too. When they finally got out of here, he didn't want to have his legs all stiff anyway, so this was about both comfort as well as survival.

He pressed his ear up against the door. He could barely hear any movement out there now. It was definitely not the time for them to try to escape, since it was quite dark out; he wanted them to have every advantage possible when making their way back to the truck. He wondered if Glenn would want to still go about and collect more supplies before they headed out. It would make sense, since they were already there... But then, they were also both going to be tired and might not be as alert and quick as usual just due to fatigue.

He turned and looked down at the boy. Maybe he wouldn't be tired after all. Somehow he was finding it rather easy to sleep through all of this... And Daryl knew even without sleep, he himself could manage to stay in the city a bit longer and cover the kid as he collected more supplies. He was strong, and could easily handle finishing a project even under pressure.

Drawing his attention back to the door, he gripped the knob. He opened it very slowly, not to make a run for it, but just to see what was going on out there. He wanted to get a feel for what they might be in for when they finally did get a chance to get out of here.

The silhouettes of a few walkers could be seen pacing around the store. Most of the massive group that had ambushed them seemed to have gone off somewhere else.

Daryl nearly jumped out of his skin when the near silence was interrupted by a whisper behind him.

"What are you doing?" it was Glenn's hushed voice.

Daryl rolled his eyes, but the boy couldn't see that, because Daryl was still looking out into the shop and had his back to him. He closed the door very slowly - as quietly as he could and turned back around toward his companion.

Glenn was sitting up now, looking toward the taller man. Daryl could just barely see the light reflecting off his eyes, producing a tiny shine in the darkness.

"Just looking," he murmured, "seeing what we're going to be up against when the sun rises."

He could tell Glenn was still looking at him, but couldn't really see his facial expression. He imagined it was one of concern, "are they still out there? A lot of them, I mean? Are we going to be able to make it out of here?"

Daryl nodded, "we'll make it out," he assured the boy, "there are still a few, but there's no telling what will happen between now and tomorrow morning. There could be less of them; there could be more," he shrugged.

The boy was silent.

"You slept quite a while," Daryl commented, "you sleep on floors a lot before all this happened? You didn't seem to have much of an issue with it. I don't think I could sleep in this fucking place even if I hadn't slept in days. I can sleep in the woods, in a tent... But not in a cramped little closet, on the hard floor, with walkers right outside. You're the kind of guy who falls asleep on buses and shit, aren't you?"

Glenn shrugged, "There was a time when I didn't have my own house, so I was staying with friends every night. I was just too proud to go back to my parents after I got myself really far into debt... So I just stayed with my friends. It wasn't even the same one every night. My sleeping arrangements were usually pretty uncertain," he looked down as though he was ashamed, "they didn't always have extra beds or available couches - sometimes other friends were crashing there too, so they'd get the couch. I often found myself sleeping in the bathtub - so I'm pretty good at managing to get sleep in cramped places."

Daryl raised his eyebrow. He didn't really ever talk to Glenn much about his former life. He didn't really know for sure what the kid's life had been like before the world went to hell, "did you even have a house when all this shit started going down?" he wondered.

Glenn shook his head, "no... I just stayed with whoever would have me, or stayed in a hotel if I was really desperate... But my crappy job wouldn't support that habit very well. And I was so far in debt, that any money I did make was pretty much taken away from me immediately. I did some pretty bad things to make ends meet..."

Daryl narrowed his eyes, "what 'bad things' could you have possibly done?" he asked, not believing the kid could have ever done anything even close to the shit he and Merle had pulled, "What, did you kill people? Rob them? Whore yourself out? I bet the worst thing you've done was trick some hotel hostess into giving you a free room..."

He could see the boy's shoulders slump and his head fall a bit as if he was very ashamed at himself for what he was about to admit, "well, I stole cars," he said, "I used the money to pay off debts and to help my friends with rent, since I was living with them... I know it was really wrong... but I was completely cornered. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't do it very often... I didn't even ever pay off my debt. Even so, I know it was horrible of me, and I hate that I had to resort to that. People lost money because of what I did. It could have really affected people's lives."

"It doesn't matter much now, does it? I don't think people give two shits about money anymore," Daryl laughed, "Heh... I'm not judging you. You gotta do what you can, right? Life fucks you over, and you gotta fuck life right back."

Glenn stared at him in silence for a moment. Out of nowhere, he burst out laughing.

"Shhh..." Daryl demanded, instantly moving forward and pushing the kid back a bit. The walkers had finally cleared out a bit. The last thing he needed was for some stupid ass laughing fit to draw them all back in, "you know there are still walkers out there," he added, putting his hand over the boy's mouth, "shut up..."

Daryl could feel that Glenn's mouth was still upturned into a smile, but he stopped laughing as soon as Daryl told him to. He reached up and pulled the older man's hand off his face, "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I just expected you to think I was a horrible person..."

"There are a lot of people I hate," Daryl told him, smirking a bit, "but trust me, you ain't one of 'em. Maybe you're annoying sometimes, but at least you're honest. No one is perfect. Every damn person on this planet is a sinful fuck. It's the ones who deny it that are terrible people."

Glenn smiled, "thank you Daryl," he said.

Daryl narrowed his eyes. The boy looked much too happy right now. Did he think they were best friends all of a sudden? Maybe he was talking too much. He didn't mind Glenn, but he didn't want to get emotionally attached to anyone in this post-apocalyptic world. If he made friends with this guy, it would just make it that much harder when his life was claimed by the walkers, or in some stupid accident.

The white of Glenn's teeth was just barely visible. He was smiling a very wide grin as he continued babbling, "it really means a lot to me that you don't think I'm just worthless scum. You seem like a pretty smart guy... and even though you're mean sometimes, I don't think you really mean to make personal attacks at people, even though we sometimes forget that and take them personally anyway..."

Daryl shook his head and exhaled before interrupting, "listen," he started, "Just 'cus I don't hate you doesn't mean I like you. You're tolerable. I'm indifferent. We aren't friends. We just work together. We're like colleagues. You pull your own weight; you aren't useless. That's more than I can say about a lot of those people in our group - the ones who act like they're better than everyone else because they had money once or went to fucking college."

"Well," Glenn disagreed, "I consider you a friend. Not the most caring and compassionate of friends, but I know deep down, you're a good guy. Maybe you're just misunderstood."

"Just... let's not turn into women here, okay?" Daryl frowned, "or psychologists... Fuck..."

Glenn nodded, giving up easily.

Daryl changed the subject back to business as quickly as possible, "as soon as it's light, I think we need to get out of here. There may be a few we gotta mow down out in the store; we might be able to just avoid them. Here's what we need to decide: Do we want to go on and collect more shit while we're here? Or just go back as soon as we can?"

"Well... Since we're already here, we might as well get the rest of the stuff we came for," Glenn suggested, "if you're up for it."

"I'm up for anything, little man," Daryl smirked, "they'll probably just expect me to go hunting as soon as we get back anyway. It might actually be easier for me to stay in the city a little longer."

Glenn frowned, "that's not true. They'll be sympathetic that we had to hide in a closet all night. And they'll be really glad we come back at all. They're nice people if you just give them a chance. Most of them, anyway."

"They'll be glad _you_ came back," Daryl corrected the younger man's statement, "they'll probably be disappointed when they see me. They were probably thinking the best case scenario would be if I got killed and the walkers were distracted enough by that for you to get away."

"They wouldn't wish that," Glenn sounded as if he was shocked that Daryl would have such low self-esteem, "you're very helpful around camp. People may be uncomfortable around you sometimes, because you say things that freak them out and aren't very social, but you help with hunting - no one else is good at that..."

Daryl laughed. So much for changing the subject. This guy was determined to turn this into a therapy session, "listen, kid. I'm not looking for a confidence booster here. I know what I contribute to those people. I know they like that I hunt for them. I'm not trying to search for reasons they should _like me_. I'm just stating facts. They don't like me much. I don't like them much. That's facts. I really wasn't looking for you to try to make me _feel better_."

"Okay," Glenn frowned, "but I bet you'll make friends with some of them eventually. I know I am starting to. I didn't know any of them at first either, but we've been together long enough that I'm starting to trust them, and they seem to trust me equally. Maybe it'll take longer for you, but I bet you'll bond with at least a few of them eventually."

"I think that's a difference between our personalities," Daryl raised his eyebrow, "you like being friends with people... I don't. It's not because I try to make friends with people and it doesn't work. I don't even make the effort, because I don't want friends. That's who I am."

"You _say_ that," Glenn smirked, "but time will tell."

Daryl shook his head and rolled his eyes, "so we're staying to get more supplies then?"

Glenn nodded, "Yeah. I think we might as well. If we don't, we'll just have to come back anyway. It would be a shame for this whole trip to have been pretty much a waste."

They sat in silence for a moment. Daryl slid down the wall and sighed. This was one of the longest nights of his life.

"Any idea what time it is?" Glenn asked.

"I was going to ask you the same question," Daryl confessed, "I think you were asleep for maybe two hours, if that helps answer your question... But that's just my guess. Could have been twenty minutes for all I know."

Glenn shrugged, "I guess we should probably try to just sleep through this then. The night's going to go by so slowly if we don't."

"You don't have to tell me," Daryl frowned, "I hope you get more sleep than I will."

**_xxxxxx_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hi you guys. :)**_

_**Sorry about the little PMS moment I had before submitting the previous chapter... I was having one of those freak out moments were I hate myself... but I'm all better now, mostly thanks to your reviews ensuring me that I am not as bad of a writer as I felt like I was. So thank you to everyone who didn't get put off by my low self-esteem and whatnot.**_

_**Anyway, from this point, there are a few ways I can go about completing this story. Maybe you guys can give me some input on what you think I should do. #1 - I could try to wrap it up within one or two more chapters - get them back to the camp and that will be the end. or #2 - I could have more eventful things happen in the city. The problem with the second option is that I have a habit of sometimes taking a story too far so that it doesn't ever end. If I stick with option 1, the story will probably be a better quality, even though it will be shorter. Option 2 may be more dramatic, but might result in the story rambling on and on until writers block claims it and it just abruptly stops being updated... Let me know what you think.. (also - even if everyone says I should do one option over the other, I still might not write it that way... my own opinion still counts in all this. I just haven't made up my mind yet over which way I should write it. You guys might help me decide.)  
><strong>_

**_xxxxxx_**

He didn't know how it happened, but somehow Daryl had fallen asleep. He hadn't thought it was possible, considering he was in the small cramped closet and the moaning of walkers was ever present right outside, not to mention the fact that he didn't like falling asleep with other people in the room. For some reason it made him feel vulnerable, and he just tried to avoid it. Nevertheless, sleep had somehow claimed him at some point during the tedious night, as he was now awakening. He still felt exhausted. The room was still dark, so he couldn't have been asleep long; it may have only been a few minutes even.

Furrowing his brow, he concentrated on the sounds coming from the other side of the door. The walkers didn't really seem to have thinned out much. In fact, it sounded like there were even more of them now than there had been when they had first barricaded themselves in the closet. How was that possible? They were being perfectly quiet... He hadn't been snoring had he? And even if he had... was it possible that snores could have been loud enough to attract so many of the corpses? Maybe their sense of smell had somehow evolved over night...

Daryl almost jumped out of his skin when he felt something thud against his back, which was right up against the closet door. He felt his heart racing, pounding almost as hard as what was certainly undead flesh pounding on the other side of the thin barrier separating him and Glenn from the ravenous walkers. Turning around, Daryl pushed his body against the door, holding it closed as he felt more thudding vibrations. He could picture in his mind, thousands of walkers pooling into the store, all of them heading right to the back, right to the closet. Somehow they all knew what tasty treats waited for them in that tiny room.

It didn't take long at all before the number of hands pounding on the door increased dramatically. It was like every single one of them knew exactly what was inside the closet. Daryl could have sworn he even saw the door knob turning. They couldn't have learned how to operate a door-knob, right? They were basically brain-dead monsters who only knew how to stumble around, kill, and eat...

The walkers were pushing on the closet's door now, and they were pushing hard... The wood of the door creaked as it threatened to splinter into countless tiny pieces. In fact, he could feel the door bending inward and could hear the rotten bodies colliding with the thin wooden barrier.

"Glenn!" he heard himself call out, looking over to where the boy had been sleeping. But he wasn't there. Daryl was all alone. Had the kid abandoned him? Was that why the walkers were all of a sudden swarming the area so thickly?

"Fuck." Daryl heard himself mumble. Or maybe he just thought it. Either way, the feeling in the pit of his stomach was dreadful. There was a good chance he was never going to get out of here alive. He could try again to wait them out, but there were so many more than there had been before... Would they all ever leave? His time was limited... He couldn't exactly just wait here forever, especially with the walkers so close to crashing through the damn door. Even if the man never had to eat, he couldn't just hold the walkers off forever.

Even though it hadn't seemed possible, an even more dreadful feeling settled within him as he considered a sickening possibility. Maybe Glenn had decided to try to go off on his own, but there were more walkers out there than he had anticipated. Maybe they had seen him and swarmed him. The kid could very well be dead... The walkers saw him in the store, swarmed in and attacked him... and then others on the outside heard the commotion and smelled the blood, which drew them in too. At the moment, that was the only explanation Daryl could think of to make any sense of how so many walkers had shown up here so quickly.

As he held the pounding door closed, he shook his head in disappointment. Why had Glenn just left? Daryl wasn't exactly nice to him... but he wasn't _that_ bad, was he? Did Glenn really think he'd be better off alone? He was good on his own... but not always! Sometimes a companion was almost mandatory if survival was a goal. The stupid kid got careless, and now he was likely dead. He felt let down, a feeling not at all foreign to him. He was not Glenn's friend; he did not trust the kid or anything, but he somehow thought he could expect more out of him. He didn't understand why the kid would just leave like that... Especially after Glenn had acted like they were all of a sudden best buds earlier, like he thought he understood Daryl or something. So it wasn't a betrayal of trust that Daryl felt... Just slight disappointment.

But he also felt something else. It almost could be described as sadness... and it did not stem from his disappointment in the kid abandoning him either. It almost felt like grief... He felt bad thinking about Glenn being dead. He had taken great care to avoid getting attached to anyone for this exact purpose, but somehow it didn't seem to be working out as planned. Daryl closed his eyes and sighed. He wanted to punch something, to scream and throw things... but more noise was the last thing he needed. This world fucking sucked.

Daryl was angry at Glenn, and at himself for falling asleep. He hadn't counted on having to babysit the fucking kid. He figured he at least had enough sense not to go off on his own into a zombie-infested grocery shop.

He frowned. How had the boy even gotten out of the closet when Daryl had been leaning against the door this whole time? He turned around again, to see if Glenn had somehow just been hidden in the shadows. Maybe he was still in the closet after all...

"Kid?" he said, his voice soft, but still loud enough to be heard over the moaning and thudding on the other side of the door, "you in here?" He narrowed hie eyes, squinting into the darkness.

No answer.

Daryl's attention was drawn up to the faint light streaming in through the small window. He couldn't have possibly fit through that, right? Glenn was smaller than Daryl, but he wasn't as small as a god-damned eight year old child. No way could he have fit through that window... Even so, Daryl felt he had to check. If Glenn had fit through, he might still be in the alleyway... Or maybe by some miracle Daryl would fit himself through it as well.

Reluctantly, he abandoned his post, leaving the shaking door unattended. It was still closed, even though the zombies were trying their best to change that fact. Daryl took a few steps so that he was standing just under the window. Then he climbed up the shelves and peered out. What he saw was shocking and confusing.

Glenn was out there, but he was just lying there on the ground. He didn't look bloody like he had been attacked, but he didn't look like he was alive either. He just lay there, completely still, like a corpse. Like the old kinds of corpses - the ones who didn't get back up and try to eat your brains. Just a regular dead person, lying motionless as dead people used to do before this shit storm of undead monsters hit the planet. Was the kid dead? Maybe he had jumped out the window and landed wrong... Maybe he was just unconscious...

"Glenn!" Daryl half-yelled and half-whispered, hoping so much that the kid's consciousness would return, "Get up, you fucker!" he added frantically. The kid still didn't move, "Wake up god damn it!"

The boy didn't stir.

Daryl moved to try to climb through the window, but it was impossibly small. He still didn't see how Glenn had even made it out.

Behind him there was a sickening cracking sound. Daryl spun around and observed in horror as the door fell inward in several pieces. He could see and smell a crowd of walkers spilling in, their dead eyes all fixed on him. His crossbow lay on the floor, being trampled by the undead. There were more walkers than he could count. There would be no way he could defeat them all, and if that fate wasn't cruel enough, now he didn't even have a weapon; he couldn't even _attempt_ to get out of this...

He kicked at them and punched them as they closed in around him, but there were too many of them. They surrounded him quickly, their hands grabbing at his arms.

"Get off me!" he growled, punching one hard in the face. He could have sworn he heard it wince as it fell to the ground. He kicked at another one which stumbled backward, "fuckers..." he murmured.

"Daryl," he heard someone say. It sounded like Glenn. Daryl's eyebrows rose and his ears perked up. Had the kid woken up? Was he alive after all, "Daryl, shhhh!" he heard Glenn's voice urge.

"Where the fuck are you?" Daryl yelled, "Get me the fuck out of here."

"Daryl!" he heard again as more zombies crowded around him. He could feel their hands on him. There were so many, and he could only push them away one at a time. He was shocked that he hadn't felt the sharp teeth punctures of one of them biting him yet.

"I'm here, you damn, idiot!" he screamed, "stop saying my fucking name and get in here! I'm not a damn contortionist. I can't get out of here though a fucking vent like you did!"

"Daryl, wake up!" he heard Glenn again as the walkers closed in on him.

Daryl's eyes snapped open.

He blinked in confusion as he assessed his surroundings. The room was lighter now, there were no walkers inside, and the door was intact. He had only been dreaming. It may have been one of the most frightening dreams he had ever had, not because it was the scariest scenario in any of his dreams, but because it was the one that was most likely to actually be able to come true.

Glenn's face was way too close to his own, his wide eyes staring down at him. The Asian's facial features looked concerned, like he was worried, and maybe even a little scared. The kid really didn't have any knowledge of personal space.

"What the fuck you doin'?" Daryl pushed him away, "you ready ta see if we can get outta here or what?"

"I think you were dreaming," Glenn mentioned, still looking apprehensive, but keeping his distance better now.

"No shit," Daryl grumbled, standing and stretching his legs, "I didn't think I'd ever get to sleep in this fuckin' place."

"You were mumbling stuff and kicking," Glenn added, "you even punched me."

Daryl narrowed his eyes and stared at the kid who was staring back at him with wide eyes. He wondered if he had punched him in the face like he had to the walker in his dream. His face didn't look damaged; there was no blood and no bruise. He must have hit him in the arm or chest or something. Either way, it didn't seem like he hit him too hard, so Daryl wasn't concerned, "what do you want, a fuckin' apology?" Daryl hissed, "I move in my sleep. You do too. Who gives a rat's ass?"

Glenn raised his hands defensively, "No... I wasn't mad or looking for an apology or anything... I was just worried... You seemed really scared."

"Dreams aren't real, kid," Daryl stared at him, "don't be worried for someone because they imagined something scary. I'm sure your dreams are pretty fucked up too, what with the world how it is..."

The boy nodded, "I guess you're right," he agreed. He still looked like he wanted to sit down and have a therapy session, but luckily for both of them, he didn't press the matter any further.

Daryl turned toward the door, listening for a moment before he cracked it open ever so slightly. He didn't hear much of anything, fortunately. The very possible scenario from his dream would hopefully stay out of reality.

He peeked out into the shop. He didn't see any walkers right away, but as usual they would have to tread carefully. There could be walkers beyond any corner, behind shelves, under tables... They could be anywhere. Just because they didn't see or hear them didn't mean they weren't there...

Daryl could feel that Glenn had come up right behind him. The kid wasn't touching him at all, but the mere proximity of his body to Daryl's allowed Daryl to actually feel a faint sensation of heat. And he could swear he felt the kid's breath on his back. He probably just wanted to look and see what they were going to be up against, but Daryl was again rather annoyed of Glenn's lack of honoring personal space and that he didn't seem like he was as scared of Daryl as he should be.

Instead of making a loud scene over it, Daryl just turned around, pushed him away, and scoffed lightly, "you ready ta go?" he asked.

Glenn gulped nervously, but nodded, "I'm ready when you are. Just remember to be careful. Don't let your guard down."

Daryl rolled his eyes. He didn't need survival tips from Glenn. Or from anyone for that matter. He was the one with the weapon. The only weapon Glenn knew how to use was a baseball bat or tree branch.

"Come on then," Daryl swung his crossbow over his back and opened the door the rest of the way. Cautiously, he stepped out of the closet, looking to the left, and then to the right. No walkers were immediately visible.

"I think we could just get what we can from this store and then get out of the city," Glenn suggested, "Everything really important should be here, and I really don't want to be in the city any longer than we have to. We're both tired, and I don't think we should be running all over the city when we don't have our wits about us."

Daryl smirked. The kid seemed really nervous while he explained his reasoning, like maybe Daryl wouldn't understand his logic and would decline the suggestion, "sounds like a plan," Daryl easily agreed. He didn't really give two shits what they did. He had his alcohol. He didn't really need much else. He knew how to hunt, how to live off the land. In his eyes, all the stuff Glenn was collecting was what people _wanted_, not what they _needed_.

Their search for items in the store this time around went a lot differently than it had before they had been ambushed by the undead. Before, Daryl had been off looking at things he was interested in, and Glenn had been off somewhere else collecting things for the other people. It had been disorganized and time consuming. This time, Glenn walked briskly but quietly, collecting things quickly, and with visibly shaking hands. Daryl followed him, watching both Glenn and their surroundings.

The boy was completely nervous. He looked like he was two seconds away from jumping out of his own skin. His eyes were wide as he looked around himself between picking things up off of shelves and the floor. His fingers shook as he reached for items. Daryl knew the fact that he was standing over him and staring him down was probably only making him more nervous, but he didn't want to fuck up again. Sticking together was the smartest way of doing this at the moment. Especially since Glenn hadn't brought any sort of weapon. If any walkers came anywhere near them, Daryl would be ready to shoot their brains out with his crossbow. That would keep both of them safe instead of only Daryl.

Daryl could feel his anger toward Glenn slowly lifting off him. He knew why he was angry, but he also knew his anger was unwarranted. He still felt let down by what Glenn did in his dream. He was angry that the boy just left him there when they both would have been better off sticking together. He recognized that the real Glenn hadn't done the things dream-Glenn had, but he still felt a little upset. His dream had stirred up fear in him, fear that Glenn really might abandon him, just like everyone else in his life had. Obviously Glenn wasn't the protector of their little duo. He wouldn't be Daryl's knight in shining armor... But that didn't change the fact that he _was_ an extra pair of eyes, ears, and hands. He was a smart kid, and he indeed was a useful part of their team. Daryl could make it on his own, but he didn't want to. Neither of them needed each other most of the time, but there were bound to be times when making it on your own would be difficult if not impossible.

Realizing that he had been scowling at Glenn this whole time, Daryl closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled. The boy could probably sense Daryl's anger. That might explain why his hands were shaking each time he picked something up. Well, that and the walking corpses being behind every corner. Glenn really didn't deserve Daryl to be pissed at him for no reason. The kid wasn't responsible for the things he did only in Daryl's dream. And Daryl couldn't really be angry at him for things he _might_ do.

Glenn's backpack was just about full. It looked rather heavy. It kind of reminded Daryl of those smart kids from high school. They'd bring all their books home every night to memorize them or some shit, and their back packs always looked like they probably weighed fifty or sixty pounds. Glenn's looked a lot like theirs had. But instead of bulging with rectangular books, it was bulging with cylinders - canned food, and other random objects.

"I think I got everything," Glenn breathed out, grabbing a metal piece of a shelf that was laying on the floor.

Daryl raised his eyebrow, wondering what the boy's plan for the shelf was. It was just one rectangular portion, the size of a plank you might buy at a hardware store. His eyes must have asked Glenn something without him knowing it, because he soon found Glenn explaining himself again.

"In case any walkers try to get us," he said, "I don't have any other weapon with me... I guess that was a dumb thing to overlook, this time at least. If we run into any on the road I'll be able to hit them with this."

"It's not a very good weapon," Daryl informed him, "I mean, it's kind of hard and all, but you'd really have to beat their brains in for it to work. It's too thin and broad. You need something smaller like a hammer or baseball bat."

"Well, I don't see any of those laying around," Glenn frowned, "I had a baseball bat... I just didn't bring it. I planned on getting in and out without even needing it. I don't usually have to worry about this stuff."

"You need to start worrying about it," Daryl chastised him, "Maybe you don't usually run into walkers... and that's fuckin' great, but you're a damn idiot if you don't even have a plan for in case you _do_ run into some... I get that it's not your style to confront walkers; you go where there aren't any... and if some come, you leave as quick as you can. If you see one in the chip aisle and you want chips, you just go without chips. I'd fuckin' shoot it in face. It's a difference in our styles, and that's fine. But sometimes you don't get to go about this business the way you want to, and you need to be ready for that possibility."

Glenn just stared at him, eyes wide and listening intently. Maybe he really was taking what Daryl said to heart. Daryl knew his advice was useful; he just wasn't sure if Glenn would see it that way. It seemed he was though.

"A baseball bat really slows me down when I'm trying to fill this backpack though," Glenn told him, "I'm not trying to be a pain in the ass," he added, "I know I should bring a weapon... I just don't know what... It's bulky and it just gets in the way..."

"You need somethin' small you can store on yer belt or somethin' then," Daryl suggested, "A fuckin' shelf is gonna be pretty damn bulky too."

Glenn sighed, placing the piece of shelf back on the floor. He shrugged, "it was meant to be temporary."

"Then bring it along," Daryl shrugged, "Don't rely on it too much though. Like I said, it's flimsy. The minute it connects with a walker skull, it's prolly gonna bend back and be all but useless. Might slow 'em down at least though."

Glenn picked the piece of shelf back up, looking thoughtfully at it as he turned it over in his hands, "I think it's stronger than it looks," he mumbled defiantly.

Daryl smirked. It was strange how Glenn was defending the shelf like it was his friend or something, like the shelf might feel offended or insulted by Daryl's lack of faith in it, "well, hopefully we won't have to find out," he noted, "come on. Let's get the fuck out of here."

**_xxxxxx_**

_**Review, por favor.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**I've decided to keep the story short, but actually finished. I am including a little more excitement in these last few chapters rather than just letting them get home with no complications, so I'm not finishing it as quickly as I could have. Maybe there will be this chapter and then one other - so this is like a compromise between the two options I mentioned earlier. Hopefully the quality will not lack but I can still let the story go on a little bit longer than I should... But not too much longer. **_

_**Also, thank you to everyone who has been reviewing. You're special, wonderful, beautiful people. :) **_

_**O_O You guys... I looked at my story stats on Monday (December 4th or 5th...?) and it says 309 people have clicked on chapter four... Who are all of you people! And why aren't you reviewing this! You all made me feel like I wasn't writing well, because I thought only like 5 people were still reading! Holy hell! That's a lot of hits considering that it's a story written by me... And that's just on chapter four, which has only been up a few days... I feel pretty special (but not as special as if some of those anonymous readers would toss me a review) :D**_

_**Ugh... This would have been uploaded sooner, but I went through and edited the whole thing and when I hit "Save" the site had signed me out and my changes were not saved... I got frustrated and waited before I edited it a second time. And I must admit, I didn't really feel like editing it the second time, so I probably didn't do a very good job of it...**_

_**Anyway, here you go:  
><strong>_

_**xxxxxx**_

The walk from the grocery shop back to the truck wasn't a long one. Daryl remembered it taking maybe twenty minutes on the way there. Of course, they didn't go through the main streets; that would have been suicide. Instead, they made use of alleyways. Glenn led the way, and for that, Daryl was thankful. He knew he didn't need Glenn, but the boy certainly was useful. Daryl wasn't a city-dweller. He didn't know his way around streets and got lost in the city more easily than he got lost in the middle of the woods. Having Glenn around to navigate through the city quickly was very advantageous.

The kid was quick, but also careful. He peaked around corners before turning them and was careful not to make any noise. In fact, somehow his feet made next to no noise as he ran. Daryl could hear his own thudding footsteps, but Glenn must have figured out some way to hit the ground with less force or something... He seemed to be programed for this kind of stuff - for running silently through the streets and evading undead monsters. Whereas Daryl seemed to be built for confronting and killing them.

As they ran, Glenn kept his bit of shelf tucked under his arm. Daryl still thought it wasn't a very good weapon, but he did acknowledge that there wasn't really much else any better at the shop. It was better than nothing. And hopefully he wouldn't need a weapon anyway... Daryl kept his crossbow ready, holding it in his hands rather than keeping it strapped to his back. If a walker jumped out from behind a dumpster or appeared from some side alley, he was going to be more than ready to run an arrow through its brain. He wasn't counting on Glenn being very successful with his bit of shelf; if any walkers needed to be killed, Daryl imagined it would be his own responsibility to take care of them.

"I hope you know where you're goin' kid," Daryl grumbled. It seemed like they had been running through back alleys for quite a while now. Daryl was already tired just from having gotten next to no sleep the previous night. That combined with running was making him feel exhausted. He knew Glenn knew the city pretty well, but he still wanted to find room to complain a bit. He didn't want Glenn getting too proud of himself. When you get too proud, you make mistakes, and that wasn't something they could afford.

"I do," Glenn called back, his voice hushed, "I've done this route a million times."

Daryl kept a close distance behind the boy, doing his own share of nervously looking around them as they ran. occasionally there would be a walker stumbling around in an alley, but they were quite a distance away, and the men could easily outrun them, so he wasted no time or arrows on them. Instead they just kept running. Walkers were dangerous mostly when they were in groups. When they were alone, they were only dangerous if you were stupid. As long as you kept a safe distance and kept an eye on them, a single walker would be no problem. Outrunning a single decaying brain dead corpse was easy. It was when they got too close that they became an issue, and the ones they'd seen thus far weren't that close.

Turning another corner, Daryl could see a chain link fence at the end of the alley. No walkers could be seen immediately, but there were two dumpsters and a car that looked like it had been caught on fire. It was possible that walkers could be hidden behind those obstacles.

Daryl winced as he witnessed Glenn run passed one of the dumpsters, only looking behind it as he ran by. He knew the kid was quick, but looking for walkers after you're already upon them wasn't something he considered wise. Fortunately, there weren't any there, but if there had been, they might have been on top of him before he had a chance to do anything about it. A moment later he passed the burnt car in a similar matter, only briefly glancing at the back of it as he ran by.

He knew Glenn could outrun the corpses almost always, and if one or two were behind a dumpster as he ran by, it wouldn't really matter. He was no good at killing them anyway. For Glenn, trying to outrun them was his best chance of survival. It just wasn't how Daryl would approach the situation. He found he often had a difficult time understanding people who did things differently than he did. That's just how he was raised. He and his family knew how to take care of themselves, how to hunt, cheat, lie, steal... They did things the smart way, the right way; anyone who did things differently was doing them wrong. Of course, now he realized that wasn't always the case, but breaking away from that line of thinking wasn't an easy thing to do.

He supposed the only safer way to approach these situations would be to have a weapon aimed and ready as he checked behind every large object. Glenn didn't have such a weapon. He could have his shelf ready, but little good would that do... Really, Daryl would only be happy if he could lead the way, having his crossbow ready to fire. But he didn't know the way, so that wasn't going to happen.

Glenn glanced behind the second dumpster as he passed it. It was just a few yards from the fence.

"Fuck!" he heard Glenn wince as he turned to face whatever was behind the dumpster and stumbled backward into the fence. He noticed the boy's eyes meet his own. They contained some sort of desperation and question, like he was trying to ask Daryl what he should do. As he stumbled back, he dropped his makeshift weapon, creating a ringing echo through the alley. Daryl was only a few seconds behind him, so he quickly made his way up to the scene before Glenn even had a chance to reclaim his weapon.

When he made it up beside the younger man, he saw what had caused his distress. The sight was nothing at all surprising. Two walkers had been behind the dumpster, and both now had their dead eyes fixed on Daryl and Glenn. Both stumbled forward, at a slow pace, but a pace still quick enough to be concerned about considering that the wall of the building they were behind and the fence created a space for the men to become easily cornered.

Daryl shot the first one quickly, right through its skull and then reloaded his crossbow with another arrow as Glenn's fumbling fingers grabbed up his flat, metal weapon. Daryl didn't have time to wait for the kid to build up the courage to use it; the walker was closing in on them quickly. So instead of letting the kid try out his shelf-sword, Daryl shot the second walker as well, straight through the brain, just like the other.

Before he recovered his arrows, Daryl glanced over at the boy who looked scared, again. He held his piece of shelf awkwardly and his mouth hung open a bit. He was shaking his head slightly, "I-" he started, but Daryl cut him off.

"Just get over the fence," he instructed, pushing the kid toward the fence. He didn't need Glenn to explain himself. He knew why he had frozen up. He wasn't a violent person. He didn't live a life where he had to defend himself all the time. He wasn't used to solving problems with violence, especially not by bashing people over the head, even if they _were_ already dead. He had hesitated because he was scared. Daryl knew that. He didn't need to hear the kid's excuse. When they got back to the truck though, he planned on having a word with him about that issue. This wasn't a world where someone could afford to hesitate. The boy was lucky Daryl had been there.

Daryl looked around the alley, scanning it for any more threats as he took a few steps over to the walkers he had just put down. He sighed in frustration when he heard a loud clang. He looked over and saw its source. Glenn had thrown his useless weapon over the fence, not wanting to leave it behind, but also not wanting to try to hold onto it as he climbed. Daryl turned back to his task at hand. Putting his boot on the skull of one of the walkers to hold it down, Daryl grabbed his arrow and pulled it up out of it's dead brain. A small spurt of blood accompanied the arrow. Glenn was already over the fence by the time Daryl reached his second arrow; he succeeded in pulling it out in a similar manner as he had the first.

"I don't usually kill them when I see them," he heard Glenn's voice from the other side of the fence.

Daryl turned and looked at him through the diamond shaped wire of the fence. He didn't add to the conversation. Instead, he just looked at the boy as he continued to nervously explain himself.

"Ordinarily I'd have just kept going. I'd have climbed over the fence and just left the walkers there. It's easy to outrun them, and they can't climb," Glenn explained, "But I didn't know what you were going to do. I didn't want to just leave you behind to kill them both on your own. I didn't really know how to hit them, or if hitting it would even knock it down... If I just hit it and it didn't fall down, it would have been even closer to me and still coming. I - I just didn't want to make things even worse..."

Daryl raised his eyebrows. He hadn't considered that the kid 'helping' may have actually complicated the process. Maybe it was for the best that he froze up this time. He was kind of amused that Glenn considered that he might actually be a liability rather than an asset.

"At least yer willing to admit it," Daryl smirked, "but next time just slam that shelf into its head as hard as you can. If that doesn't knock it down, I will," he added as he swung his crossbow over his shoulder and started climbing over the fence. He hopped over, landing next to Glenn, who was frowning up at him.

"It's like you said before," Glenn was still pouting, "our styles are just different. I'm not just some worthless idiot. I just don't do this the way you do. You don't have to act like I'm an idiot."

Daryl raised his hands in defense, laughing as he spoke, "you're the one who said it," he reminded the boy, "ya said you didn't wanna make things worse. I wasn't sayin' you're worthless or an idiot or nothing. I just don't want you to hesitate and end up letting yourself get killed."

"Well, I don't want you to end up getting killed because you insist on staying back to kill all the walkers instead of just running past them and leaving them," Glenn frowned.

Daryl shoved him lightly, but hard enough to knock him backward a few steps. He knew Glenn wasn't used to having discussions the way Daryl did. Ever since he was young, verbal debates were accompanied by physical threats or violence. As soon as he pushed Glenn, he felt like he shouldn't have. Glenn didn't push back. This wasn't like disagreeing with Merle. He didn't need to beat the kid up to get him to listen. But old habits die hard. He wasn't about to sit down and have a polite discussion about this.

"Those two were too close to just ignore," Daryl insisted, staring down at the kid who didn't really look as nervous as Daryl felt he should. Was he getting used to the other man's threats? Did he no longer take Daryl seriously? He frowned and continued, "we'll run past 'em when it makes sense to. That'll be our compromise," he stepped closer to Glenn, looking down at him and glaring. He could tell he was intimidating him now, "that okay with you?"

Glenn did look scared for a moment, but the fear on his face quickly dissolved and was replaced with anger. He shoved past Daryl and muttered just loud enough for Daryl to hear, "I hope I'm able to read your mind then. It'll be a shame when one of us gets killed because you wanted to stay behind and kill walkers that we could have just outrun."

Daryl could feel himself getting angry. Now Glenn was communicating in a language Daryl could understand. They were disagreeing, and instead of Glenn just giving Daryl his way or trying to communicate with him calmly like he normally would have, he had shoved Daryl and directed an insult at him. Now _this_ is the kind of disagreement he was used to. It would be difficult for Daryl to call this debate over just like that. He wished he was the kind of person who could just let things go, but that just wasn't the kind of person he was.

Glenn had his method, and it worked for him. That was fine when he was doing this alone, but when Daryl was here, they were going to do this his way. He jogged to catch up with Glenn who had already started to briskly walk away. He grabbed the back of the boy's shirt and pulled him back, pushing him against the wall as much as his bulging back pack would allow.

"Listen, kid," he growled, gripping the front of Glenn's shirt tightly in one fist. He put his other hand on the wall with his thick arm as a sort of barrier preventing Glenn from just walking away. Glenn immediately brought his hands up and gripped Daryl's arm which was clutching his shirt, as the older of the two stared down angrily, "I respect the way you make it through the city. You're obviously good at doing this your way, but you gotta consider that we ain't all ninjas. For fucks sake! When you're doin' this alone, keep doin' it your way, but when I'm here, I'm doin' it my way."

"This is why I like doing this alone!" Glenn almost yelled. Daryl could tell he was trying to keep his voice down, and he was succeeding, sort of. He was still probably a bit louder than he should have been, "I've done this alone so many times... Every single time I take _anyone_ with me, everything gets all fucked up!"

Hearing the kid swear sounded unnatural. Daryl almost laughed. But he didn't. Instead, he pushed the boy further against the wall and hissed down at him, "Well, there's not much to do about that now. We're here, the both of us, and we need to work together to get out of this. I ain't good just running past these fuckers. You know that. Havin' two of us here's gonna slow us both down, and that means we gotta stop and kill some of these fuckers sometimes. We can't outrun 'em all. Your way ain't gonna work for me."

Glenn stared up at him with wide eyes, "Have you ever considered that _I_ may not be good at doing this _your_ way?" he didn't look as angry now. He just looked hurt, like someone was bullying him. And maybe Daryl was... He loosened his grip on the kid's shirt, "the reason I'm not dead yet is because I have my own way of avoiding getting swarmed by these things. I avoid them instead of killing them. It works for me."

"Guess we'll just have to think fast," Daryl suggested, still starting down at the kid. He wasn't so angry with him anymore. He wished the boy was better with killing the walkers, but he just wasn't. He'd have to work with that fact. There was no way around it, "you just do your thing, and I'll do mine. We'll see if we can make this work. It's a waste of time ta be arguin' about it."

"Agreed," Glenn nodded. He ducked under Daryl's arm, and Daryl did not move to stop him. Glenn continued leading the way.

Daryl followed close behind him again. Even though his attention was on his surroundings, his mind was wandering. He couldn't believe how fast Glenn's hurt expression had cooled down his anger. One minute he was wanting to punch the kid, and the next he felt guilty for even feeling anger toward him at all. Maybe he really was beginning to get attached to this guy... Caring what about someone else whose name wasn't Merle was strange to him.

He didn't really trust the boy to protect himself, so he wanted to ensure he was close enough to fend off any walkers before they had a chance to get to Glenn. He hadn't forgotten how quick and smart the kid was about avoiding them, but the fact Daryl was there with him was kind of slowing him down and making him reluctant to go about this business as he usually would. Their two styles were so different that traveling through the city together was becoming a hassle for each of them. Glenn was moving too fast and ignoring walkers which could easily reach out and trip them up, and Daryl wasn't moving fast enough for Glenn, making his whole 'just avoid them' plan not work so well.

They really needed to just meet half way, but it was so difficult to know where to draw the line of when they should run past the walkers and when they should stop and kill them. Daryl just hoped they wouldn't run into any more. If they did, he'd just have to be ready to kill them all. He didn't want to have to count on Glenn killing any - not because he thought Glenn was incapable, but rather because he knew Glenn didn't have experience in killing the walkers, and would probably hesitate or not hit them hard enough the first few times.

Daryl wasn't like Glenn. He tried to understand how this situation was different for the kid as compared to how Daryl saw it. Daryl was older, and was used to hunting - shooting moving targets. He also had been battling these zombies at close range since this whole thing started. He was certain Glenn had managed to kill at least a few within all his time in this new world, but he definitely tried to avoid it when he could. He also had to consider that Glenn wasn't necessarily built for such rough work. He wasn't the kind of person to get into physical fights with people. Daryl was. Killing the walkers was a task he picked up on quickly. He was good at it. Maybe Glenn could _become_ good at it eventually... Daryl hoped so. He couldn't rely on speed and avoiding them forever.

"Look!" he heard Glenn hiss as he stopped abruptly. They were at the edge of the city now, quite close to where they had left their truck. They had been running near the train tracks and hadn't seen any walkers in a while since getting out of the once-populated part of the city.

Glenn's sudden halt almost caused Daryl to run into him. He looked ahead, trying to see whatever Glenn had spotted.

In the distance, he could see their truck. It looked like about three walkers were hanging around it.

"You got the keys?" Daryl asked, wanting to make sure they were ready to get into the truck as soon as the walkers were out of the way. The truck wasn't parked in an empty field. There were places all around where walkers could be hiding, "when we get up there, I want to be able to get out of here as soon as we can."

"I've got them," Glenn answered. He was inching toward a ruined car - a vehicle with no windows and only three tires - all of them flat. Daryl followed him, pushing him behind the car the rest of the way and then ducking behind it himself as well.

"I could probably shoot at least one of them from here so we don't have to get too close. I'll be able to shoot them all if I don't miss and they don't start running," he offered, "but as soon as those three are down, we need to move fast. It shouldn't make too much noise, but even the little bit of noise it will make might be enough to attract a few more if there are any nearby." He positioned his crossbow, holding it over the car's roof. The car helped steady his tired arm, "we gotta be ready to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible."

Glenn simply nodded, looking wide-eyed over the roof of the car.

Daryl aimed his crossbow at one of the walkers. It seemed there was one woman and two men. Probably. Sometimes it was difficult to tell. He had a clear shot of the first, and he took it.

The arrow whizzed through the air before shooting through the walker's skull with a barely audible crunch. The rotten man's head snapped back and then he fell to the ground with an all too familiar thud.

The sound of the first one being shot and falling to the ground attracted the attention of the other two. Daryl breathed out steadily, trying his best to keep calm. He didn't let his nerves affect him much when he was in situations like this, but that didn't mean he was never at all nervous. Every time he shot one of these monsters, he felt at least a little scared, though he rarely let it show. No matter how many times he was confronted by these undead nightmarish creatures, he wasn't sure he'd ever be completely used to the idea of them. Seeing them was no longer surprising, but that would never make them less dangerous.

Crossbow aimed at the next one, Daryl steadied his arm and took the shot. This arrow pierced the walker's neck. It stepped back, almost tripped over its own feet, and made a gurgling sound but then continued staggering toward them.

"Fuck," Daryl muttered, pulling another arrow out and positioning it in the bow. He wondered what Glenn was doing though all this. Probably looking nervous as fuck. He didn't have time to check. He aimed more carefully this time, pulled back the string, and waited for the arrow to connect with the walker's skull. This time it hit right on the target. Two down. One to go.

Closer now than the previous two were, the third walker would probably be nearly impossible for Daryl to miss. He positioned his arrow, aimed, and shot, hitting it right through its left eye.

"Come on," Daryl said, looking around them as he ran around the car they had been using as a shield. He began to collect his spent arrows as quickly as he could, feeling very glad there had only been a few walkers. He dreaded the day where he'd have to leave any of his arrows behind. Replacing them would be next to impossible, so collecting them was mandatory, "Get that last arrow out for me," he yelled over to Glenn and pointed up at the first of the corpses he'd shot, "and don't break it."

He saw uncertainty on Glenn's face, and heard a moan of disappointment. He knew Glenn hated having to deal with the walkers, weather that be shooting them or dealing with their fallen bodies. But time was an issue here. The longer they were here, the more risk there was of more walkers coming up on them. He also wanted to force Glenn to get involved in dealing with the walkers a little more. He worried that Glenn's plan of avoiding all this wasn't going to work out in the long run, and he didn't want the kid's disgust in these creatures to cause him to hesitate for a moment too long whenever it was a life or death circumstance.

Daryl looked up from the walker he was standing over. Glenn was looking down at the other corpse in disgust. Daryl drew his attention back down, put his boot on the walker's skull, pressed down on it not too hard, but hard enough, and gripped the arrow. As he pulled it upward, he glanced back at Glenn, who had put both his feet on his walker's head and had squeezed his eyes shut as he gripped the arrow with both hands and pulled his arms upward.

Daryl's arrow came out quick. He put it back with the others and watched Glenn attempt to do the same. As he yanked the arrow out of the skull, he stumbled backward, almost falling right on his ass. He steadied himself against the truck.

Glenn looked exhausted and almost sick as Daryl approached him, clapping his hand on the kid's shoulder and taking the arrow back from him, "thanks," he muttered, putting the arrow away. Glenn didn't even respond, "you okay?" Daryl asked, trying to look into the boy's eyes. He had to actually duck down a bit to see under his stupid baseball cap.

Glenn's wide eyes met his own, "they're walkers, right?" Glenn started, looking quite haunted, "but they weren't always... It's just like pulling an arrow out of a dead body's head... I mean, it's exactly like that." Daryl narrowed his eyes. Glenn continued, "it's just disturbing..."

"Yeah," Daryl agreed, "but that's the world we live in now," he clapped Glenn on the shoulder again, "We better get going."

"Daryl! Watch out!" Glenn suddenly screamed. Then he moved faster than Daryl had ever seen him move before, which was pretty damn fast, considering the kid was already quick to begin with.

He pushed Daryl likely as hard as he could, then reached down and grabbed his piece of shelf, which he had probably discarded just before retrieving Daryl's arrow. Daryl was in the process of turning around and aiming his crossbow at what was almost certainly a walker coming up behind him. He knew Glenn wouldn't have freaked out like that for any other reason. Before he could even see the walker he was certain was there, Glenn was slamming his bit of shelf against its head, hard. He hit it once, bending the shelf slightly, and then a second time, bending it almost to a ninety degree angle.

It wasn't enough to kill it, but it was certainly enough to knock it down. Daryl quickly shot an arrow into its head to finish it off, grabbed the arrow back, and then grabbed Glenn, who was standing and staring, with shock written all over his face. He was still holding his bent up shelf weapon in shaking hands and was visibly trembling very slightly.

Daryl grabbed the mutilated, makeshift weapon out of Glenn's hands, tossing it aside. He wouldn't need it anymore. Then he swung the truck's driver side door open, shoved the boy into the front seat, and then followed him in through the same door. Glenn would have driven ordinarily, but Daryl felt like he should just do it himself this time.

"Keys," he demanded, holding his hand out in front of Glenn.

The boy stared at his hand for a moment, and then looked over at his face. For another moment, Glenn just looked into Daryl's eyes, looking a bit uncertain.

"Are you listening?" Daryl asked. The kid looked like his mind was far away. Maybe he wasn't hearing anything Daryl was even saying, "you still got the keys?" Daryl pressed again.

Glenn blinked, "Yeah..." he murmured. He stuffed his hand into his pocket, felt around there for a moment, and then tried the other. To Daryl's great relief, the second pocket indeed contained the truck's ignition key. Glenn handed it over, still seemingly only half-aware of what was going on around himself.

Daryl exhaled sharply, started the truck, and started driving back toward their camp.

**_xxxxxx_**

**_Review please. _**

**_One more chapter. Haven't written it yet...  
><em>**


	6. Chapter 6

_**It's finally here... The last chapter. I hope you like it.**_

_**xxxxxx  
><strong>_

Daryl glanced over at his companion as they drove in relative silence. The only sound to be heard was the quiet hum of the truck's engine. He drove only about thirty miles per hour instead of the usual fifty to sixty, as he was in no hurry to reach their destination. Their camp was set up only about fifteen minutes away, but Daryl didn't want to get there that quickly. He wanted to extend their driving time as much as he could.

He was kind of dreading returning to camp. Those people would make a huge deal about their absence and unexpected return. There would be talk of miracles, laughing, thanking God or the heavens or whatever they wanted to thank... Hell... There may even be hugs. Daryl didn't know if they'd be happy he came back or not, but he almost hoped they wouldn't. He didn't like people making a fuss over him, and he certainly didn't want any of them trying to hug him... Although he doubted any of them would have balls enough to try that.

Glancing over at the passenger side, Daryl once more spotted Glenn, who had been silent ever since they got into the car a few minutes earlier. He was now looking out the window, still silently. The colour seemed to have returned to his face, and he didn't look like he was shaking anymore. Additionally, his breathing had slowed back to normal. Daryl was still surprised at how nervous and freaked out Glenn had been acting. He knew the boy had been in the position where he had to kill a walker before. He didn't see how this time was any different.

"How you doin' over there?" Daryl asked, looking between the road and the boy. He already knew there were very few cars on the road, and he knew the approximate location of each, but he still wanted to keep an eye out, just in case. He also didn't want to hit a walker, because it would get decaying flesh all over the truck, and might crack the windshield.

Glenn turned and looked at him, "fine," he murmured, "you?"

Daryl smirked, "I was only asking 'cause you freaked the fuck out back there."

Sighing, Glenn turned his entire body so that he was facing Daryl, "I travel alone whenever I can, you know?" he started.

Daryl nodded, "yeah," he faked disinterest, keeping his eyes glued to the road. But he was listening intently, and glad Glenn was speaking again.

"I'm faster on my own, because I don't have to worry about other people... I travel into the city all the time - I volunteer, for two reasons, because I'm fast, and I know I'm good at getting around the city, and because I know I have the least to lose, and no one's going to be really sad if I don't come back. It would be selfish to make someone like Rick or Shane go into the city. People would be devastated if one of them got killed. If Dale got killed, Andrea and Amy would be heartbroken. I think he's like a father to them... And that means the girls couldn't go either, because then if they died, Dale would pretty much lose his family all over again. I'm just the only one who doesn't have ties to anyone else..."

"I don't have ties to those people," Daryl cut in. He used to, when Merle was there, but Merle wasn't there anymore, "If they could stand to lose anyone, I'm sure it would be me over you."

"They respect you," Glenn said, "you're useful. You provide food... Fresh food. I'm only useful until all the food in the stores goes bad. But that wasn't the point I was meaning to make... I don't want to even start the debate over which of us is the most worthless to the others... What I was trying to say is this: Traveling alone, I look after myself, and if I fail, it's no big deal to anyone but me. It's nerve wracking to have to keep an eye out for other people... If someone else dies while I'm with them, and I could have stopped it, I'll feel bad forever. It's my responsibility to lead myself through the city, and to make sure I don't get killed, but since you were with me, it was my responsibility to make sure you didn't get killed either."

"I'm not your fuckin' child," Daryl glanced over at him again and then looked back toward the road, "I carry a crossbow around for a reason. If I get myself killed, it's my own damn fault, not yours. Don't think I'm your responsibility."

"But you are," Glenn contradicted, "because this is my job. It's the thing I always do, and you came with me. You aren't used to traveling in the city. I am. I'm the experienced one who needs to look out for anyone else who is with me..." he looked down at his lap. His lip stuck out a bit in a sort of pout, "I came so close to fucking up."

Daryl frowned. Glenn's occasional swearing wasn't as funny now, since he seemed more upset, "I don't get what your whole issue is."

"I completed this whole trip like an idiot," Glenn leaned his head back in obvious frustration in himself, "I didn't bring a weapon, and the one I did pick up was worthless. I couldn't even kill anything with it... And I'm terrible at all of this. You killed tons of them, and just pulled the arrows out when you were done. You killed two of them that were coming right at me. They were coming at you too, but if you weren't there, I would have probably been killed, because I froze up and couldn't kill them. I'm fast and I'm good at avoiding them, but when they are right there, I'm slow... I can't even move half the time. I've been so lucky so far. It's a miracle I haven't gotten killed yet. And it's another miracle that I haven't gotten someone else killed."

The kid was voicing a lot of what Daryl had been thinking over the last day and a half. He in fact was very slow when it came to actually killing the walkers. And Daryl indeed felt concern about him not being able to move fast enough if he got cornered by them. However, he couldn't help but feel Glenn was being way too hard on himself.

"I almost got you killed, Daryl," the boy frowned, "I was already freaking out just because I had to take one little arrow out of one of the geeks. That slowed us down, when we didn't have time for it... And then that other one came up right behind you... And I couldn't even kill that one! It almost bit you. Did you realize that? It was one time where your life was really in danger, and even when I tried as hard as I could, I didn't even succeed in killing it. You had to kill even that one. I can't defend myself. I can't defend anyone else... I thought I was good at traveling in the city, but I guess I'm not. I'm only good alone, and even then I've probably only made it this far based on luck. I only tried to kill one of them, and I couldn't even do that."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the boy, "You knocked it down," he said plainly, "your shelf weapon fuckin' saved my life, kid. How the fuck can you not see that? No, you didn't kill it, but you got it away from me long enough so it didn't bite me."

Glenn blinked a few times, "Yeah... I guess so..."

"And you weren't at all slow about it," Daryl added, "I never seen someone move so fast in my life. You might think you're no good at this zombie-killing business, but I think you are when you know you gotta be. Maybe you don't actually kill them, but knocking them down is all you need when you're on the run. I didn't need to kill that one. We could have just left it on the ground and driven away. I killed it because it pissed me off that it was trying to kill me."

"But when the other ones were coming up on us in the alley, I couldn't even think of what to do. I froze up... And I was basically worthless," Glenn frowned.

Daryl sighed and continued to try to convince the boy that he wasn't a failure, "I killed those others, because you knew I would. You knew you didn't need to step up those times. But when you knew I wasn't going to be fast enough to take down that last one, you stepped up, and you did it quick. You didn't freeze up or hesitate at all."

He looked over at Glenn. The boy was smiling now. He laughed, "maybe I'm better at this than I thought."

Daryl shrugged, "you must be. But don't get too cocky. You still got room for improvement."

"Thanks, Daryl," Glenn smiled, "I know I'm not great at all this, but I appreciate that you acknowledge that I'm not a complete waste of space."

"Far from it, kid," Daryl glanced over at him. He looked like a little boy whose father had just told him he was proud of him. Did he really care that much about what Daryl thought of him? "I guess you got potential," Daryl further explained, "yer not the best at this yet, but your gettin' there. And you don't ever want to get to the point where yer too proud of yourself anyway. The minute you got no nerves left about any of this is gonna be when you end up getting killed."

Glenn narrowed his eyes, "You're still nervous?" he seemed very skeptical.

Daryl just nodded.

Glenn laughed, "well, you do a good job of hiding it. You know those video games where you control a character who just kills the hell out of everything, and he just blows through level after level without a scratch on him...?"

Daryl raised his eyebrows, "I don't really play video games," he commented.

"Oh... Well, that's kind of what you remind me of - like you have no fear and like you're an expert at this. Almost like you were designed specifically for killing these things."

"Well, hey," Daryl smirked, "maybe we're in the same video game. Maybe you're the sidekick or somethin."

"Ha!" he heard Glenn laugh. Daryl glanced over at him briefly, but it was long enough to see the boy smiling the biggest grin he'd ever seen, "maybe," Glenn laughed, "I guess we make a pretty good team. I knock the walker down, you kill it."

Daryl agreed, but he still didn't want this kid thinking they were best friends now. So he just shrugged, looking at the boy only out of the corner of his eye. When Daryl didn't happily agree with his comment, the boy looked a bit less excited and then leaned back in the passenger seat.

"It's going to be nice to get back to camp," Glenn sighed.

Daryl didn't respond to that. He was still dreading their arrival back at camp. What he wanted to do was sleep immediately when they got back. And he probably would. And it would probably piss everyone off. Glenn would stay awake and tell everyone about their scary adventures, and everyone would listen with wide eyes and congratulate him on not dying. And they'd all think Daryl was an ass hole for not playing along. Not that he cared what any of them thought of him anyway... It just kind of annoyed him that they expected him to be their friend or mentor or something...

"They'll be happy to see you," Glenn kept talking, "you don't think they will, but you're wrong. They'll probably be disappointed when you act like you hate them all too. I'm starting to understand you a little more, but I'm not sure most of them do. They still expect you to act like they do, but that's just not who you are."

Daryl rolled his eyes. The kid was adamant about trying to figure out Daryl's mind. He didn't understand why either... He also didn't see why he seemed to think everyone at camp loved him so much. They didn't. He didn't care, but it kind of bugged him that Glenn kept bringing up his theory that they all respected him and all that bullshit.

"They'd lock me up on a roof and leave me for dead the first chance they got," Daryl mumbled.

Glenn sighed, "What happened with Merle was different, Daryl," his voice sounded emotional, shaking a bit like he was almost on the verge of tears, "I can't say if we did the right thing or not... He was being violent and causing a lot of trouble, and we had to do something. No one wanted to leave him there though. That was an accident. None of us wanted to leave him. Certainly none of us would leave you, because you're not even like your brother. Not to say he's a bad person," he added quickly, "he's got ways about him... I mean, you... He's kind of a trouble-maker, you know? I mean, I'm sure deep down..."

"I know my brother, Glenn," Daryl grimaced, "you don't have to explain him to me. I know how he is."

"Right," Glenn continued, "so you should realize that you're different than he is. You wouldn't stand on the roof, shooting wildly just to make noise. You wouldn't get in physical fights with people for no reason. You're a more composed person. None of us would ever have any reason to handcuff you anywhere, because you wouldn't make yourself a danger to the group."

Daryl shook his head, "whatever," he mumbled, trying to stay focused on the road. Debating about the fate of his brother wasn't something he enjoyed doing. He knew Merle could be a complete dick sometimes. He knew why the group turned on him - because he had turned on the group first. Daryl was no idiot. He felt they should have made sure Merle got unlocked before they just left... but what was done was done, and no one seemed to really see his side of all of it. To them, Merle was dangerous. They didn't know him. He did terrible things, but Daryl remembered him being there at some points in his life when absolutely no one else was there for him at all. Merle wasn't a bad person. He did bad things, but he wasn't a bad person.

He wanted to curse when he pulled up at the camp. Before he turned the truck into their little clearing, he even briefly thought that perhaps he could just keep driving. What would Glenn do? Daryl knew he could easily force Glenn to stay with him and abandon the others. He didn't want Glenn to hate him though. Having a willing sidekick was quite a bit different than having a reluctant prisoner.

Glenn was out of the truck before it even came to a complete stop. Daryl watched through the windshield as Rick ran up and immediately hugged the kid, patting him on the head and everything. He could see Rick's smile was as wide as could be, and his eyes looked teary, almost as though he was being reunited with his long lost son. Daryl wondered what it might be like to have relationships with people - to be friends and care about people, and to have them care about him in return. It didn't really seem like something he'd be good at. And he didn't really see himself as the kind of person that other people would really care to befriend either.

Daryl stepped out of the truck, slamming the door hard enough to close it all the way, but as soft as he could so to not make much noise. As soon as he was outside, he could hear everyone's excitement. He hoped their voices and laughter wouldn't attract walkers.

"You should have seen Daryl!" he heard Glenn exclaim to the people who were all excitedly gathering around him, "He killed like... at least six of them! We wouldn't have made it back if not for his crossbow. The guy's like a zombie killing machine!"

A few of them looked over at Daryl. They looked like they were waiting for him to confirm Glenn's story, but he just shrugged. He wasn't in the gloating or story-telling mood. He killed the walkers that he needed to, just like he always did. It didn't seem like a big deal really. He just wanted to go to sleep.

Glenn continued telling his tales, "we were totally cornered at the grocery store!" Daryl almost wanted to laugh at how excited the boy was about all this, "It was a really close call. I wasn't paying attention, and some of them had gotten into the store... Well, because there were no windows left - they got in with no noise at all. They were coming up right behind me and I didn't even hear them until they were almost on top of me. I mean, I didn't hear them at all! Daryl had to tell me to look out. And then when he did, I accidentally knocked into a shelf and made even more of them notice us... Daryl totally saved my ass." Glenn looked over at Daryl. He looked so happy. He must have already forgotten how angry he had been at Daryl for wasting valuable time searching for alcohol. All of the annoying and dangerous things Daryl had done were completely erased now, by the so called 'heroic' things he had done.

The boy barely gave himself time to breathe as he stumbled over his own words. He seemed to be so eager to tell everyone of their exciting adventure that he didn't mind getting through the whole tale in under two rambling minutes, "So there we were, stuck in a tiny, dark closet... We didn't know how long we'd have to be there..."

Daryl shook his head and drew his attention away from Glenn. He still just wanted to get to his tent and get some actual sleep. He was completely exhausted. He knew Glenn probably was too, but somehow the boy's excitement was making him forget about sleep for a moment.

As he started toward his tent, Daryl felt someone's fingers on his arm. He turned and glared down at their source - Amy. He wasn't as angry as he could have been. Amy didn't annoy him too much. In fact, he rarely talked to her. He didn't really know her at all. He didn't have to question what she wanted. She, like all the others, explained herself without him even having to ask.

"We're so glad you guys are okay," she smiled slightly. She actually looked emotional. How could these people who barely even knew him claim to give a damn about him? He supposed maybe it was her estrogen making her give a shit, "we thought you really were dead this time."

Daryl looked at her. She was pretty young - probably about Glenn's age. He wondered if the two of them were good friends. They'd have a lot in common, both being young adults. She was probably very relieved Glenn had made it back.

"Sounds like you really saved the day," she smirked, "I think Glenn sees you as a hero."

Daryl looked over at Glenn. He was explaining their adventure still, now with the aid of wild arm gestures. He was going to be so exhausted once all of this new found adrenaline wore off, "I won't make a big deal of this," Daryl started, keeping his voice low. He saw Amy's eyes widen and noticed her lean in closer. She was probably shocked that Daryl was speaking to her at all, since he normally didn't bother, "and you don't even have to share this bit of information, but Glenn's just as much of a hero as I am. If not more so. He saved my life twice. He might not admit it. He might not even realize it, but it's true."

"Wow," Amy looked up at him with still wide eyes, "what did he do?"

Daryl shrugged, "he found a closet in the grocery store when we were cornered. Right in time too. We were inches away from being eaten alive. Then he almost beat a walker to death right as we got to the truck. He thought he was a failure because he didn't kill it, but if he hadn't knocked it down, it would have bitten me for sure. He may not seem like much, but when shit hits the fan, he's damn efficient."

"Sounds like you two work pretty good together," Amy smiled, "He's going on and on about how you saved him too."

"Yep. We're a regular super-hero and sidekick," Daryl remarked dryly. He was getting tired of talking about this.

"Ha!" Amy laughed, "that's cute! Now we just need to decide which one of you is the super hero and which is the sidekick."

Daryl raised his eyebrow, "I'm no sidekick," he informed her.

She shrugged, "I don't know... Glenn's pretty fast. Like Spiderman or something. But then you'd be a better Batman than a Robin."

Daryl shook his head, "Well, you think it over. I'm goin' to bed. I'm hella fuckin' tired. Didn't sleep worth a shit last night."

"Okay," Amy squeezed his shoulder, "I'll let you know what I decide," she smirked. He hoped this wasn't going to turn into some 'inside joke.' Amy had done a good job at not annoying him thus far. The last thing he wanted was to engage in high-school chat share stupid jokes with her.

Daryl rolled his eyes, "night," he mumbled, walking off toward his tent.

Flopping down on his makeshift bed, Daryl breathed a sigh of relief. All he had wanted to do for the past day was get to this bed, and now he was finally here. It wasn't really comfortable, as it wasn't even a real bed, but it certainly beat that closet floor where he'd caught a wink of sleep the previous night. And he had spent many nights camping, so he wasn't that picky about his sleeping conditions, as long as he had space to stretch out.

He could still hear Glenn's excited voice. Ordinarily it would have bothered him. He would have unzipped his tent angrily and yelled at everyone to shut the hell up. But today he didn't really mind so much. In fact, he found the faint sound of the boy's stories was actually bringing a hint of a smile to his face.

Daryl appreciated that Glenn seemed to think of him as a valuable person, and even though it was kind of annoying, he also appreciated that Glenn didn't consider Daryl and Merle to be the same person. His whole life, Merle and Daryl had been lumped together. Any time Merle did something bad, everyone would say "You wouldn't believe what those boys have done now." Daryl loved Merle, and he always would, but he certainly didn't like to be held accountable for things his big brother did wrong.

He listened through the thin material of the tent as Glenn continued babbling, "he thought I had been bitten. But I didn't know what was going on for the longest time! I hadn't even realized I was bleeding!"

"Were you scared?" he heard someone ask.

"Well, yeah. There were walkers all over outside the closet... And the door wasn't that strong," Glenn explained.

"No, I mean, of Daryl. When he thought you had been bitten. That guy doesn't mess around. If he thought you might be turning into a walker, you're lucky he didn't just off you right there, no questions asked," Daryl smirked. He wondered whose voice it was. It sounded like Dale's, but Daryl was so exhausted he really couldn't be bothered to think about it too much.

It should have bothered him that these people were a little scared of him, but he found he actually quite liked it. It helped him to not bond with them too much. People typically don't try to make friends with you when you scare the hell out of them.

He couldn't hear Glenn's answer. Maybe Glenn lowered his voice if he suspected that he'd be heard and he didn't want Daryl to know he was or wasn't afraid. Of course, Daryl knew he had been. He could see it in the kid's eyes at the time. Somehow making Glenn scared of him wasn't as fun as scaring the others. Daryl wondered if that was because he really was making friends with the boy. He hoped not. The last thing he needed was another brother, even if his new one was the complete opposite of his older brother.

He supposed it wasn't something he could just avoid though. Maybe it was too late already. But maybe being friends with someone in the camp wasn't such a bad idea anyway. Merle was gone, so Daryl didn't really have anyone. Merle had been Daryl's protector, and Daryl had been Merle's as well. Maybe he needed a new person to fill that role. Glenn seemed a perfect candidate. And he wasn't really bad company either.

_**xxxxxx**_

The End


End file.
